Persecution
by DewdropLotus
Summary: After they're discovered by Howard Link, Kanda faces public persecution for his relationship with Allen Walker. Branded and humiliated, he still refuses to cave to the hypocrisies of the Black Order and the Church itself.
1. Chapter 1

**.Persecution-One**

"I didn't expect this of either of you; but much less you, Kanda," a whisper fell on his ears alone.

Dark eyes stared up at the Chinese man who was peering down at him with judgment clear in his equally murky eyes. There was an accusatory glint covering up the disdain that the younger man was sure the scientist was feeling. It was unfortunate that it had come down to this. Really. They'd been careful, but with the inspector around…everything held a degree of recklessness. They'd been pushing boundaries until it eventually collapsed and exposed them for the abomination that they were.

"You should know better."

He'd only heard that from six or seven people now. The two bodies that were currently holding him down by each arm had been certain to drill it as hard into his head as they could…when they were lashing him with chains. _Sodomy is a sin. Face damnation._ He'd heard with every slash of metal across his skin. The sting of his flesh splitting open wasn't enough to cause him to make a single sound. No matter how much they'd screamed in his face and beat him into the ground. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking down.

Nor would he regret anything he'd done. The Black Order be damned, the Church be damned. He didn't give a single fuck as to whether or not the European jackasses considered his _actions_ worthy of the punishments they were threatening him with. They'd never sentence him with death, but only because he was an accommodator. They'd simply find other ways to torture him and probably Allen too.

His mind wandered over to Allen, wondering how that beansprout was faring. Hopefully better than he was. The damn brat didn't need to really see how superficial the Black Order was. A place where they deprive people of their original death in cruel inhuman experiments, then turn around with punishments for something as harmless as love—simply because both people were male.

Sadly, none of this surprised him in the least. Well, maybe Komui's strange detachment did. Being Asian, it came as a bit of a culture shock that Komui would view this as harshly as the Europeans who brought their homophobia to the regions that didn't once sentence death for it.

Suddenly he wanted to kill Howard Link with his own hands for reporting them. It was such a shame that he'd been stripped of his innocence and right to walk without having two incredibly large CROW members keeping him firmly held captive as he was forcibly kneeling before not only Komui, but the entire division of higher ups.

"You know what you are being charged with?" One of the bland faced bastards sneered.

"_Fuck you_."

**To be Continued.**

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><p><em>AN: This is a hypothetical/what if situation that takes place between Brain Damage and its sequel. This one doesn't follow the canon up to current like I'm trying to make Brain Damage do. I've also written this to be entirely readable without Brain Damage. But for those who follow that story. This is a loose tie in/alt possibility. _

_It's also replacing Conversation With Fists in my "shit to update". As such the chapters will be closer to drabble length, but it will be a consistent story. As in, each chapter picks up after the last. _

_My attempt at a realistic time line response to Kanda and Allen's relationship._


	2. Chapter 2

**_.Persecution. Two_  
><strong>

"You are being charged with _non-consensual _s_odomy of a younger male_, _adultery, _and _blasphemy _in the eyes of the church. Will you make any objections?" The question was a taunt more than anything. They'd been caught red handed and those religious bastards knew it. He knew it. To object would simply be wasting time. He didn't care about their judgments anyhow. The only actual regret he had in all of the commotion caused by this was that Allen was receiving unnecessary attention from the higher ups from Central. That beansprout had enough shit to deal with, considering the 14th and all.

"Fuck your god, too," he snarled and shook his head, spitting on the man's shoes. He predicted the outcome of that action and as expected, his face was acquainted with the leather encased, steel toe. It blacked his vision temporarily and it probably cracked the bones of his cheek. It didn't matter. It hurt; but he'd _grin_ and bear it, so to speak. It would heal in due time.

"I suppose you can't blaspheme worse than you already have, Kanda Yuu."

He blinked and struggled to raise his head, "give me my sentence. And go back to your holy job of doing nothing but using us for your dirty work."

"You'll do well to keep silent, if you want to keep your tongue," a nasally voice came from behind the clergyman bastard before him.

"Tch," he spit blood and retained his dignified glare. He couldn't get any lower than he was. He was knelt before his direct superior and everyone above _him, _before every active member of the Black Order they could rally to ensure that he wasn't given any chance to slip out of maximized humiliation. Not that he gave a shit. They had yet to reveal Allen to the general consensus as the other individual involved and hopefully they would keep it in the upper ranks and away from the judgmental eyes of those who were supposed to be their companions.

Of course, none of them knew the real story. They were being led to believe he raped a minor. They apparently had _evidence_ to prove that's what happened. Perhaps, that's what they thought really happened. After all, he was an older man—supposedly—who "took advantage" of a younger, less competent mind.

He couldn't stand to look passed the clergy bastards to see the faces of the so-called friends of his, who actually believed he was capable of raping anyone. Stupid motherfuckers. All of them. They were going to let him take the blame for the entire incident and it probably didn't matter what Allen said in response.

Well, that was just fine with him.

"We're determining your sentence still. As you are an accommodator, you are still valuable. While we are determining this, you will remain in detainment. While the practice has been abolished in recent years, we're making an exception for you; you will be branded with the symbol of adultery, you will so wear a green band around your neck and it will be emblazoned with the symbol for blasphemy, as an identifier to your homosexual crimes against God. Do you have anything to say of this?"

"Why the fuck are you still asking me that? It doesn't fucking matter anyway," he snorted and closed his eyes—bored of this show already.

**To Be Continued**...

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><p><em>AN: For clarification, this may not have all of the same consistencies with Brain Damage. As it's also its own story. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

**_Persecution. Three_**

The man placed his arms behind his back, poised with a degree of superiority over the detained exorcist. The grotesque sneer he delivered to the Japanese man was nothing short appalling. For a clergyman to have such a mean streak seemed hypocritical. If religion was supposed to be holy and pure, then why were these people such monsters? Kanda couldn't understand it. He was being labeled a sinner—an adulterer— and almost sadistically being made a public show for his crime of loving someone. It was like professional pit fighter chastising a friendly bar-room brawl. If they were supposed to protect and secure a future for humanity, then why the hell were they treating a human like a filthy beast?

He couldn't figure out the logic, no matter how many times it ran through his mind. Try as he might, he couldn't find fault in himself for it either. At first, he thought maybe he was in the wrong. That what they were doing was some how as sinful as they made it seem. But it just didn't click. There were no sudden, 'I'm a sinner, let me repent!' feelings going on in his mind. He wasn't just trying to convince himself when he said that he had no regrets aside from giving Allen a new stress to worry about.

If he ever questioned having a heart before, he couldn't now; because it hurt at the thought of Allen. It was a dull, breathless kind of ache that left him longing for the perfect silence they'd built to protect them. The perfect silence that was now scattered and hopelessly broken.

Bored, dark eyes stared down the hot iron that he knew he'd have to face again. Try as they might, it would only heal. They'd already made the intent to mark him before his public sentence. This was just their way of letting the whole fucking world know that Kanda Yuu was a blaspheming, sodomizing homosexual. _Delightful_.

The searing sting of the hot metal only lasted long enough to char the chin and leave a large imprint of an A in the flesh of his face. His breath hitched and his body tensed, bearing the heat without a single uttered sound. It was placed just under his eye—over the cheek bone—and it made his nose curl. The smell of his own burning flesh wasn't something he ever got used to. The CROW member pulled the red hot prod back as quickly as he placed it. The man's face was blank—unimpressed by the fact that he'd just marred another human. The same kind of creature they were supposed to be protecting.

All fucking hypocrites.

**To Be Continued**...

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><p><em>AN: WakeToSanity, who are you on Tumblr? I'm curious now XD  
>And to clarify, no you do not need to read Brain Damage! This isn't fully connected. Just the situations that may have been AKA, this was originally the plot for Brain Damage until I got my genius mind blowing idea.<br>_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Persecution. Four_**

Without warning, he was shocked with a splash of icy chill. It cut into him like a knife and he almost—almost—let a gasp slip through his steeled defenses. The thrown water hadn't been like the last incidents. They had simply rebranded him over and over, until it was apparent that his healing ability wasn't going to allow him to be scarred. This time, he idly watched a man approach him with a knife and a vial of some kind of dark ink. _Great._

It didn't take a genius to figure out the purpose of this. His quick healing rendered such branding as futile attempts. He'd shrugged off all sorts of mutilation without a shred of a scar. He could already feel the charred skin tingling back into feeling and at just about the time the cold blade of the knife carved the dead skin. A shiver passed down his spine involuntarily at the feeling of having his face peeled—carved into like he was a piece of sculpting clay. The cold water collided with his face again, cruelly. The exposed layers of flesh didn't hurt as they would if he'd not been branded prior, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling. His insides lurched from the way the blade just seemed to slide along his face.

They were going to make certain he was shamed forever. When thick fingers roughly ground the black ink into the carved open skin, he couldn't restrain a strangled cry. It was the combination of the carving and the fractured bone beneath. He was being mutilated on the same side of his face that he'd gotten kicked in.

It didn't matter.

So he would have a mark. He wasn't vain enough to care. Let them shame him until the end of time. His pride wouldn't let him lie down and have this break his spirit. He'd spit in this man's face too, if he was able to.

Some kind of thick leather was pressed against his face and held with the fresh ink. The large CROW member held the back of his head and the leather against his cheek so hard that he thought his had was going to be crushed between them. It was obvious what this was for. His body instinctually kicked into his healing ability in order to try and preserve itself and keep fighting. He was being forced to heal quicker. This was forcing the ink to stain the layers of skin. Even his body's healing ability couldn't erase that. The ink poisoning was killed nearly immediately by his regenerative powers, but he still felt the sudden tenderness at the wound. The man's hand felt like Lavi's hammer being crushed into his face.

He closed his eyes, begging the wound to heal already so the two-ton fuck of a man could let him go and leave him to stew in his _shame_ without having his skull compressed. Judging by the way the man had carved, Kanda only guessed that the symbol was a well pronounced letter A. He supposed that was expected with his charge of adultery. Though the thought of an English letter carved into his Asian face made him a little bitter.

"I hope you at least made it pretty," he grunted, trying to sound nonchalant while his head was suffering the brutality of the church's holy guard.

**To Be Continued**...

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><p><em>AN: WakeToSanity, you should go get a tumblr :D It's awesome. ThenICouldHarassYouAllTheTime. AndMakeYouCryWithMyWritings.  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Persecution. Five**

The man released his head and Kanda dropped back. He would have fallen in a heap on the floor if the two motherfuckers hadn't still been holding him. His body wasn't responding as well as before, due to the constant abuse; but when he was thrown down into the hard floor, he didn't make a sound. In all this, he wouldn't succumb. Chiseled fingers pulled his arms back behind him painfully, nearly popping his arms out of socket. He knew why they did this.

He'd already nearly hospitalized one CROW man and after being forced to fully heal and he was eager to put another man in the infirmary. It appeared they learned their lesson.

More pressure pulling sharply at his skull made his vision white out momentarily and he could feel every strand of hair threatening to be pulled out. Perhaps that hurt more than anything, because a small groan slipped. He struggled against the fingers digging into his throat. He barely noticed the small green-painted metal collar being strapped around his neck. The sharp edges of the plated parts of it dug into his skin uncomfortably until he submitted his neck and let the man force his head back further. There was a click next to his ear and in the same instant of that sound, he accepted that he'd been officially branded and collared.

The large fist let go of his neck and recollected the dark strand of hair at the base of his neck. With a shearing sound, like torn paper, Kanda realized that his long hair was now in a pile around his body. Let free—dropped haphazardly—across the floor by the spiteful clergyman whose shoes he'd spit on. In all that he'd had done to him…this broke him the most. He watched the black strands floating to the floor in front of him and it was like watching himself sink.

Allen _loved_ those strands. He'd always had his hands in them. That soft smile always got wider—truer—when his curtain of black fell between them. Now, all he had left of that ended at the edge of his ears, crowding his face and sticking to the fresh tattoo in his skin. He'd been fully dehumanized and shamed to the point where he wasn't sure there was a single person in that entire place that would give him the benefit of doubt. Allen was the only person in the world who probably didn't think he was a monster

And that was the only person in the world that mattered.

"Stand him up," a voice commanded from a face he couldn't see. "Do you have any statements to make?" He pressed. _Again._

"Quit fucking asking that question," he growled as they nearly broke his arms while lifting him to his feet. "I'm not going to cave to you motherfuckers and beg for repentance. You're all delusional sons of bitches. You already branded me, what the fuck good will it do? I raped an underage boy. What more do you want me to say?" An ironic smirk crossed his face—if only for Komui's reaction. Komui knew. He knew exactly what really happened. Perhaps hearing Kanda willingly take the blame in order to preserve Allen's innocence in the matter was more than he was ever expecting of the antisocial Japanese man.

However, Kanda's smirk quickly died when he heard Allen's cry not long after the words of his 'admittance' left his mouth.

"…K…Kanda!"

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: I'm not going to lie, I'm holding out on you guys. I've already written up to 16 "chapters". I'm posting them in short bursts so that I don't get overwhelmed when I catch up with myself and I can just sit and write a page at a time. _

_**WakeToSanity:** Oh boy, this is going to turn you into a Cerberus before it gets better. _  
><em><strong>EXO718<strong>: I researched a lot of this, and this kinda thing was often punished by death. So sadly, this isn't historically unlikely. _  
><em><strong><br>**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Persecution. Six**

Kanda's eyes remained cold and dissociative, giving nothing for the boy who had been led into the display by Howard Link—the man he wanted to strangle until he stopped moving. It only made sense that they would bring Allen there to see the public humiliation. As a lesson to both of them and to stop any speculation that Allen might be involved. It didn't matter. As long as Allen was spared, he'd let them cover his whole body in an alphabet of sin.

"Don't talk to me, beansprout," he sneered and forced an unfriendly expression for the boy he pretty much gave his soul to. The worst possible thing was to bring Allen there. If they wanted to torture him truly, this was a good start.

"Oh my…god," the boy choked, a sob was breaking to the surface—Kanda could see it in the way his eyes were glossing over like glass. Allen's eyes were always like reading giant signs to his heart. "K…Kanda…you…they…"

"Don't say a fuckin word to me. Keep your bitch mouth shut and don't say a damn word about anything," the captive man growled, showing teeth. He was trying to convey a feeling to Allen, but he knew the boy's martyr complex would break between them.

Allen's eyes glued to the dark red, inked letter "A" tattooed into Kanda's face, surrounded by the uneven sheared locks of his once long hair. If Allen could define himself in glass, he'd have cracked down the center at the very sight. The man's flawless face was now marked with a once common symbol of shame; a shame that should have been shared. But the ferocity of those dark eyes and the words he'd heard the moment he had stepped into the area attested to Kanda's unwillingness to involve him.

"T…this isn't right," he choked, his heart in his throat and his fingers curled into fists so tight that his knuckles threatened to split.

"You heard what I said. I raped a boy. I'm facing my punishment for it. If you disclose the identity of the victim," he gritted sharply, keeping his real meaning vague, "I will find a way to hurt you."

He could see Allen's heart breaking. That he was being forced to shut his mouth at Kanda's not so nice request was probably more than the soft hearted brat could bear. Allen had enough problems and the boy wouldn't handle the reaction well if everyone knew the truth. Kanda wasn't well liked to begin with, so this wasn't much of a change in how people regarded him. Instead of him being an insufferable bastard, he was now a homosexual insufferable bastard who raped another male. Nothing he couldn't deal with. He'd even gotten used to the constant, soft sound of Lenalee's sobbing. That had started when they dragged him before a whole fucking courtyard of people. He suspected it was because the girl simply didn't know what to think.

…because the looks all of those people had given him were ones of horrified disgust. Something he would get used to quickly, he suspected.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p>An: sorry for any errors. Holy shit it's hard posting this from an iPod. thank you all for the reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

**Persecution. Seven**

Allen's heart hurt. He wanted to reach out and pull Kanda to him. He wanted to cling to him like before. He didn't want to witness this degradation. He didn't see them brand him, but he knew it couldn't have been pleasant and it appeared to be fresh too—at least from where he was standing. He didn't notice the green collar until Kanda turned his head dismissively. England's color identifier for homosexuals had been green, specifically a green carnation in many cases. This green collar had a large black "b" carved into the painted metal.

They were marking him with blasphemy too. They were punishing him to the fullest extent because of him. Because they loved each other when they shouldn't have. Because Allen had broken through Kanda's defenses and it cost them both.

He wanted to cry, but he knew he couldn't. Not with the audience. All of those people just watched…without questioning the legitimacy of it all. Even Lavi… Lavi said nothing. He… He of all people should know that Kanda was better than that.

Kanda would never rape anyone, let alone a kid. They had to know that. They had to. So why weren't they standing up to protect him? He was their friend! He had protected them. He took physical harm and a touch of death to defend them. And this was their reaction? It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong! He wanted to scream. His Heart was pulsing blood so hard through him that it made his chest feel like he was being stepped on.

A deep seated loathing began to grow in his heart. Komui was there, watching this all happen. He knew. He knew! And yet, he said nothing he let this go on. Perhaps, Komui was powerless to the cold fist of the church. That church that had imprisoned a man for an act that he was sure these clergymen did with several women outside of their own wives. If he'd been a woman, this wouldn't be happening to Kanda.

He wished they hadn't been caught, but it almost seemed inevitable. Sometimes he couldn't keep away from Kanda. Sometimes he'd just wanted nothing more than to take Kanda by the arm and lead them away from there forever. Unfortunately, forever would be symbolized by a red "A".

"I'm … So sorry…", his whispered hoarsely. He could feel Link tense next to him. Link was the one guilty for this turn out. He was the one who reported them when he'd walked in on something he shouldn't have. It was, of course, their fault for not being careful enough; but Allen never thought Link would place them in that predicament without question.

"Get the hell out of my sight, beansprout. Go do your charity work for others."

His words were cutting and Allen would have been hurt if he had not known they were only like that out of necessity. Kanda had to be mean. He had to be cruel. If he showed any unusual affection, then he would place Allen in the same situation. Allen didn't care, but he could see the smoldering persistence. When Kanda Yuu really wanted something, heaven and hell couldn't stop him.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>An: Thanks for the reviews! And I'm sorry I'm making people so mad with this XD Haha. I'm mean. I know._


	8. Chapter 8

**Persecution. Eight**

"Allen Walker, please refrain from speaking with the accused," the clergyman spoke sternly.

"Oh yes, god forbid another human speak to such filth," Kanda muttered, with a characteristic click of his tongue. His dark eyes retained a hollowness that Allen never wanted to see in them. His finger twitched at the desire to reach out, but he stepped back. He had no choice but to simply stand there and watch the CROW members strapping Kanda's arms in binds across his chest. Countless seals were placed along his arms—from his wrists to his elbows.

"Kanda Yuu, you are treading on impossibly thin ice already. Do not make this harder on yourself," the clergyman's voice was full of superiority and it was enough to make Allen nearly snap. How dare he speak to Kanda like that... Allen had never wanted to hurt another human as much as he did right then.

"Go fuck yourself."

_Kanda, just stop_. Allen's mind begged the man to quit egging him on before they decided to do something worse to him. _Please_. He was torn between his intense anger and his horrified lightheadedness from Kanda's state of being. He was putting up such a front, but he was putting it up alone. He didn't have to be alone. Allen didn't want him to be alone. The internal struggle he was fighting with made his whole body quiver uncomfortably. It was like there was a knot twisting his insides until he came close to vomiting at the very thought.

A snap cracked through the air, followed by an unsuspected yelp. It wasn't a loud yelp. It wasn't much more than a strangled gasp of air at the sudden sense of pain that flooded through the body that was on the receiving end of a long metal studded whip. It didn't even take more than the second lash to draw blood through the white fabric of Kanda's shirt. The material split vertical down his spine and he clenched his jaw at the third lash that came down against his flesh—sending drops of red all along his shirt.

Allen's hand covered his mouth and he wasn't the only one. Lenalee's soft sobs, hitched and she let out a startled cry at each strike. She wanted them to stop hurting him, just like Allen did. No matter his crimes, watching another human being mercilessly beaten wasn't a pleasure. Especially not someone they knew—in Allen's case, someone he loved. His knees threatened to give out with the forth lash that slashed his abused lover's back.

Despite the five lashings he received for his loose tongue, Kanda didn't show a shred of remorse. He didn't have a shred of regret and he continued to goad those clergymen with his confidence and unwillingness to submit. Allen couldn't deny that this intense ability to pretend he wasn't in the lowest possible place to exist was impressive and commendable…but he didn't want Kanda doing this for him. Not when he was just as guilty.

He opened his mouth with intent; but it was as if Kanda was reading his mind, because those deep navy eyes burned their gaze into his. It was a smoldering devotion that Allen couldn't understand. "Don't say a fucking word, beansprout."

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>An: Thanks for the reviews everyone! This one is a side project, so if I forget about it occasionally, I'm sorry!  
><em>


	9. Chapter 9

**Persecution. Nine**

Allen was trembling. It was like watching his heart being pulled from his chest and shredded before him. Once upon a time, he would have jumped in and fought tooth and nail no matter what the man's desires were, but this man was his everything. To defy that was like betraying him, but to leave him there to be whipped like an animal…was betraying himself. "I can't, Kanda…"

"Don't you even open your damn mouth."

"I'm so sorry...Kanda…I…"

"Idiot stop!" Kanda growled, dropping his weight against the two fuckers who were still holding to his bindings. He didn't have access to his arms the way he did before, but he could try to get close enough to smash his stupid lover's head in, if he was quick enough. The pain of his shoulders being nearly pulled from sockets wasn't enough to stop him from getting within arm's reach of Allen. Unfortunately, that was as close as he managed before Howard Link stepped in to seal Kanda's movement. "If you give any semblance of a shit about me," he whispered just barely loud enough for Allen's ears to catch, "then you will shut the hell up and just let it go."

"It's because I give a _shit _that I can't let this go…"

Another crack sounded before Kanda could toss a heated retort. His back arched instinctually and he felt warm liquid dripping onto his exposed ankle. There was probably blood all down his body and it had gone ignored until he nearly slipped in it. The ability to care about the pain was lessened with every lash and burn.

"You were told not to speak to the accused, Allen Walker."

Allen's eyes glinted toward Kanda defiantly. They never met eye to eye on much. That usually made it interesting, but this wasn't just another spat. This was Kanda. This was the man he'd shared his body and heart with. To ask him to just sit back and watch them tear into him…was almost too cruel, even for Kanda. He wasn't innocent. He wasn't _raped_. It was his choice to be pressed to him like that. It was his _choice_ to commit the blasphemy they shared. He didn't care what the church's standing on it was. And he didn't care that he'd be seen as the same monster they were marking Kanda as. He was already being mistrusted because of a vagrant Noah lurking in his head.

"This is too much," Allen announced, silencing the populace with just four words. Those four words brought eyes on him, inspecting him and questioning him. They probably thought he was ignoring the man's "crimes", but in his eyes there were no "crimes". They were consenting partners.

"You are disobeying your orders, Mr. Walker. Please stand aside and refrain from any further interruptions."

"No. This is wrong," the silver haired boy persisted. "He's risked his life for the people of this order, he doesn't deserve this treatment."

"He knew the consequences of his actions."

Allen moved closer to Kanda, despite the heated aura leaking off the angry man. "The consequences he's being given aren't in accordance with his actions!"

"Beansprout, shut the fuck up, **now.**"

"No, BaKanda…"

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>An: Sorry for any typos! I'm sorry I'm being so mean to these guys :'D but I'm a sadist. A horrible horrible sadist and I love it when my readers squirm. Especially you, WakeToSanity. Your squirming fuels me~  
><em>


	10. Chapter 10

**Persecution. Ten**

"I swear to god, beansprout. I will never fucking speak to you again. I will never look at you again….just… Not here."

Allen's eyes drifted back to the men who were responsible for Kanda's public disgracing. They were elder men, adorned in holy robes with unholy hearts. It was ludicrous. It was appalling to think that these were people who were supposed to be on the side of humans. "I will not sit here and let them lie to all these people."

"It's done already, jus—augh…" He dropped back to his knees, nearly writhing in pain at the blow to his knee from one of the CROW men who he'd managed to shake off. The bone must have cracked at the way he'd hit the hard marble. It didn't take but another moment for the other man to restrain him and between them, they had him sprawled out—hard pressed into the floor. He could nearly taste his own blood now.

A twitch in Allen's muscle indicated he was just moments from tearing those two men off of him, but he had to approach it from the less offensive direction first. He needed to try and win over the public opinion. He wanted everyone to realize this charge was too extreme for something as minor as _sex_. That's what Kanda's human rights were being castrated for. This was what Allen was being victimized behind the upper echelon's doors for. He was no victim.

"Please stop. He's not moving and he's not hurting me," he begged to the two men who were strapping Kanda's legs together to keep him from another escape. Oh, Allen wasn't stupid. He knew they had a just reason for keeping him under very tight restraint. If Kanda had the ability of free movement with no holds barred, he would probably put many people in critical care. That was just Kanda; fist firsts and reasonable logic when that failed…but he had failed reasonable logic this time around.

"He's under arrest of serious charges, Mr. Walker. The very fact that you are still present is only due to your status as an Exorcist of the Black Order. Your superior will be issuing your punishment for your insubordination."

"Who issues your punishment when you succumb to the human mistake?"

"Hold your tongue or you will be assisted out." The robed man held his tone stern and serious, motioning to Link to prepare for the possibility of having to force the white haired teen out of the procession area. Allen Walker's presence was a necessary gamble to provide a learning experience for both boys. Any attachments to Allen—afflicted with the 14th Noah—were barred. Especially when it came down to the simple fact that Kanda Yuu wasn't simply just an exorcist himself. This was a perfectly convenient example.

"I don't have any reason to hold my tongue. This wasn't even a trial, but tacking a guilty verdict on a man not even bound by European customs. He's Japanese and from the Asian branch originally, why is he being ostracized for something that wasn't even a crime _there?_"

"Hnng…" Kanda struggled to get his face up enough to speak between breaths. "S…stop."

"He didn't _rape _me. It was _consensual._"

**To Be Continued...**

_A/n: Slight delay because of my personal issues. Thank you for your reviews, I'm glad I'm causing so much distress~ It fuels me.  
><em>


	11. Chapter 11

**Persecution. Eleven**

"This kid is fucking retarded," Kanda grunted, trying desperately to breathe with his chest compressed against the ground. "He doesn't know what the fuck he's saying," he bit out harshly, trying to make his voice louder and crueler.

"Kanda... Why are you so adamant on this?"

"Because I hate you, fuck off," he sneered in a chuckle and put his head back into the ground. He was trying not to look at the stupid boy who couldn't pick a worse time to come out of the closet. He didn't mean a single word that slipped out of his mouth, but he let them spill out for the opposite reason. He cared. As much as that idea pissed him off; he cared for the dumb little shit enough to take the kick to the teeth.

"That's a lie. I don't believe that for a second. I'm not going to fall for face value like these people. These people are ready to ostracize you, BaKanda!" The teen yelled, voice escalating with every syllable. It wasn't long before Howard Link moved into position to restrain Allen, making certain to keep him bound to his spot in the case this took a bad turn.

"We are leaving, Walker," the CROW man declared, pulling Allen in a direction away from the arrested man.

"Let me go! I wasn't done talking!" Allen struggled a bit now; his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't leave Kanda-he couldn't! "Kanda!"

"Great, I fuckin broke him. Charge me with conspiracy to turn him in to a blasphemer too." Kanda's mouth moved despite his numerous warnings to refrain from further insolence. "This little piece of shit is confused. He's projecting," his voice raised nearly to the breaking point of his vocal ability. "I raped him, end of story."

"You damn liar!" Allen screamed back, nearly tackling Link down with the desperation to get closer to Kanda. "You couldn't rape me if you wanted to!"

"That's your delusion speaking."

His voice was so cold. So painfully cold. It was shattering Allen's heart to pieces. This shouldn't be happening and part of him felt like there was no way it could be happening. Allen should never have to deal with someone watching him like a hawk all the time and keeping them apart. As such, they should still be sleeping in bed. They should be curled up under cool sheets with Timcanpy pestering them until they woke up and dressed for the day. Kanda's lewd comments at inappropriate times shouldn't be held back because of a hypocritical religion's intolerance. Allen's occasional need to just creepily stare at Kanda shouldn't be interrupted out of fear of being discovered. Their "friends" should be protecting them, not standing back and watching this all go down without stepping in.

Komui should be protecting the exorcists like he said he was there to do. Allen's lip curled. If Cross was there, this wouldn't be a problem. As much as he hated how that bastard could be, there weren't many people as open minded as his Master. If Cross was there, they'd be gone already.

"I love you, Kanda," Allen stated crisply.

**To Be Continued...**

_A/N: I was away, busy with Megacon, but now I am back!  
><em>


	12. Chapter 12

**Persecution. Twelve  
><strong>

"Go fuck yourself."

"I love you."

Kanda turned his face, trying to get any leverage. He was desperate to see Allen leave. This stupid kid was going to make it worse. "Someone get this kid help. He's spouting bullshit."

"I'm not spouting bullshit," Allen cried against Link, who was now forcibly pushing Allen further away from the man disabled on the floor. The binds against Allen's body made it a fight to hold his ground, but he didn't want to leave. If he left, he would lose it. If Kanda disappeared from his line of sight, his chest would constrict until even breathing became a trying task. He was already entering panic mode. "Don't just sit there and take it! BaKanda! You don't lie down like this!" He screamed, being nearly at the exit, pushing against Link—and now another CROW member who joined the fight to remove him from the area. "This isn't _you!_ Kandaaaa!"

The captive man was grinding his teeth, wishing he could strangle Allen until the boy turned blue. As he was, he couldn't move his arms or his legs. He had no fighting chance at even standing, let alone clubbing that beansprout until he understood. "I used you. Now I'm done with you. Go back to saving the world, you ignorant shit."

Words stung right to Allen's soul, but he knew they were just Kanda's way to downplaying his words to make him still seem innocent. Despite Kanda's position, he had more power over the situation than Allen liked. The man was branded a sinner, a sinner confessing sins would be more convincing then the protest of the one who was the "victim" of the supposed sin. It was bullshit. It was nothing but shit.

"I love you Kanda…" he repeated. If he repeated it enough times, maybe it would stick. Maybe Kanda would hear it; because at that moment, Kanda was only listening to the sound of his own words trying to convince him of his lies.

"I hate you," Kanda repeated, giving up any semblance of a struggle and conceding to lie complacently against the cold marble. His head hurt—his heart hurt. Despite the fully healed wound, he could still feel the burn of the "A" on his cheek. The mark was supposed to be minor compared to the scars of his past.

"I LOVE YOU KANDAAAA!" Allen's scream echoed as he was carried out finally.

Without warning, the CROW men lifted Kanda to a vertical position. The sudden disorientation nearly made him vomit. He was already bordering on sick; this was just not helping his case. He sucked in a heavy breath and lifted his face to stare down the son of a bitch who was probably expecting some sort of emotion to be showing through. They weren't getting shit from him.

"What now, honorable priest?" He goaded once more, expecting the sharp slap across his face. It didn't sting nearly as much as Allen's echoing cries replaying in his head.

"Your sentence will be amended with your admittances. Now, take him back to detainment. Make sure to hold his head high."

"I don't need assistance wearing my shame proudly," he clipped back, waiting for another lashing; somewhat surprised at not receiving it. "Let me fucking walk."

A moment of silence passed and the clergyman analyzed the young man before him. He knew the risks of giving Kanda Yuu any leeway. However, letting him walk in his own shame was perfect. "Very well. Unbind him and make him walk."

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: I am extremely cruel. I know.  
><em>


	13. Chapter 13

**Persecution. Thirteen**

The CROW men begrudgingly release the seals on Kanda's legs, letting him stand on his own. He wavered for a moment. The cracked knee was slowly healing, but he wouldn't let that stop him. He wouldn't let that interfere and he would never show that it hurt like hell. His face scrunched up in a look of distaste and he seriously had to hold back the urge to spit in the CROW bastard's face. If he did that, he would lose his rights to walk, he was sure and he didn't want to be carried back. They assumed it would be more humiliating to strut down the courtyard in front of everyone, but he thought otherwise.

One foot after another, he began his trek toward his _holding cell_; where he would be locked up like a murderer …for sex. It almost made him want to laugh. If they thought whipping him, branding him and making him into a symbol of sin would make him stop wanting Allen like that…man, were they wrong. If he got out of his situation, he'd take Allen with him and the first fucking thing they'd do—

"Move it, sinner."

A large hand pressed into his back and hurled him forward. His lack of arms to provide balance nearly left him tumbling back to the floor, but he was able to just save himself from the fall. It didn't help his mood though. Not like he could really do much as he was. It was him versus a handful of men twice his size with the ability to make him heavier than bricks with their seals.

"Tch." Shaking it off, he walked. The green collar was in proud display, as well as the red letter. They were going to be his trophies. Trophies of the monstrosity of the church—as if he didn't already have a few of _those_ stacked up in his closet. Eyes scanned those he was familiar with.

Lenalee refused to look at him, but he could tell her eyes were bloodshot from crying. Her brother refused to look at him too, but he wondered if it was for a different reason. Komui was a science driven man, but he was a tool to the Order. Who knew?

His eyes crossed Marie—standing next to Tiedoll. Marie couldn't see, but he knew the man heard everything. The expression etched in Marie's face was one of disgust, but Kanda could tell it wasn't toward him. It was toward the Order. Kanda knew Marie that well at least. They were practically brothers. Just like Tiedoll was his only real "father" figure. Tiedoll wasn't a stupid man; he was an artist—driven by beauty in the world. Something like sex between two men wouldn't make a man like that turn on him. Tiedoll's eyes told him that he was on his side. Kanda wasn't entirely alone. That was reassuring.

A splotch of red caught his eye and he turned his head, feet moving apart in longer strides—keeping his head held high and a look of complete disinterest pasted to his face. Lavi's single green eyes was narrowed on him, or rather, narrowed on the "A". When he mouthed the words, "I believe him," he knew that Lavi was referring to Allen's attempt to call him on his bullshit. There was a smoldering anger in Lavi's expression that Kanda merely snorted at. The redhead was probably pissed off now for he same reason Allen was in a panic.

He didn't care. Let them be mad. Let everyone else see the green band and the "A". Let them scrutinize and judge him. Walking down the path, he could feel the eyes. He could practically feel the disgust of those who didn't fall for Allen's attempt. Being led off into the little box they'd lock him in, he heard one man whispering to the other.

_"They should have just put him to death." _

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: Got a wee bit busy there. Will be flourishing again soon once work slows the fuck down.  
><em>


	14. Chapter 14

**Persecution. Fourteen**

His holding cell was barren, ironically much like his own room. It was a bit of an overkill for something that wasn't even murder. General Winters had been on death row and he was given more leeway than Kanda felt he was being allotted. Perhaps they viewed murder as more forgivable than homosexuality. Oh yes, and that pesky blasphemy thing he apparently had going on. It didn't seem right at all, but he'd come to the conclusion that the church was just that corrupted. He didn't even believe in their god. He suspected Allen didn't. Those who live with the suffering they did wouldn't either.

He simply stared at the wall and waited. Hours and hours slipped away and he really couldn't tell how many of them passed. There was nothing to do more than just lie there on the bare bed. Even if he wanted to struggled, he really couldn't. His arms at legs were rebound the second they tossed him back into the cell.

It was cold, but it wasn't unbearable and actually, it took the burning sting out of the right side of his face. The wound was healed, but it wasn't going to stop reminding him it was there. He kept swearing that he wasn't going to let it get to him, but the constant reminder that it was there because of a handful of assholes who didn't approve just boiled his blood. Same for the collar really. That thing wasn't going to be pulled off easily. Once his hands were free, he would try. But even he could feel the magical enchantment that kept it from being simple undone. He could be stuck wearing it forever, he considered.

That didn't bother him as much as the "A". He'd own up to being a blasphemer and a homosexual, but he didn't and wouldn't ever consider what he had with Allen to be adultery. Their relationship wasn't vulgar. To him, it wasn't unnatural either. In fact, he thought they clashed and complimented perfectly. They didn't need to speak to know how to communicate and they fought side by side nearly symmetrically without voicing any tactics. Despite Allen's appearance of innocence and Kanda's aloofness they burned with fire at each other's fingertips.

Kanda wouldn't choose any other way to exist alongside another person.

He spent the time thinking about Allen. Not that he would ever admit to that damned beansprout. He knew Allen was probably furious with him; and he really should be. Allen wasn't being given a fair hand either. He knew that he would be raging mad too if the clergy bastards had whipped and branded Allen. He'd probably slaughter every CROW son of a bitch that he could.

"I'm such a hypocrite." He mumbled to himself. He had no real reason to, but hearing a sound other than dead air kept him from losing his perception of reality.

"Kanda," a voice spoke through the door. At first he couldn't identify it, but after a moment he realized who the voice belonged to.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: I'm going to be focusing on this one for a while, so I can finish it up and prepare you guys for a horror/hilarious piece of WTF fanfiction I have in the works.  
><em>


	15. Chapter 15

**Persecution. Fifteen**

"Bak…"

"I came here as soon as I heard what happened," the blond Asian continued through the sealed door. "Komui called me, but I just couldn't get here any sooner."

"W…why are you here?" Kanda mumbled absently against the mattress.

"Because I'm going to try to get you transferred back to the Asian Branch. I spoke with Bookman Junior and this is unacceptable. Your affiliation is first with us."

"What the hell did he tell you?"

"He told me enough."

Kanda shifted and tried to at least right himself enough to sit up against the wall. He could see Bak's shadow through the small obscured window in the door. For once he wasn't annoyed by this man's untimely presence—which usually involved fawning, fretting and trying to please him because of some family guilt thing he had going on. It appeared like he was alone…which Kanda found extremely strange. That they would let him through without watching him like a dog was a little weird… "Are you alone, Bak?"

"For the moment. I managed to gain a little favor from the watchers."

A look of curious morbidity passed Kanda's face. He knew that meant one of two things _usually._ In the case of being in the Asian Branch, that meant Fou did something. Bak's evil, _evil_ wall-lady. Fou could not be here, so it had to mean Bak was utilizing his familiarity with unnamable Asian voodoo-magic. "I don't even want to know. Can you come in here, or are you stuck out there?"

"I can, but not for long. If I get caught, then we're both screwed."

"That's fine. I've been holed up in here for hours upon hours anyway."

The knob turned with a little spark, releasing enough of the placed seal to let Bak slide through undetected. They must have taken the Asian Branch members for total morons if they thought that one or two watchers could actually hold them out. They may be a socially awkward bunch, but they weren't as strictly tied to the religion aspect as the Europeans. The blond man stepped in, carefully replacing the door and trying to make it look unimpeded. "Try days, Kanda. You've been in here for days."

Kanda blinked at him, face to face with him directly. "Days?"

The questioned word fell ignored when Bak finally got a good look at Kanda. He should have already been used to the idea of this response every time someone would see him, but it was still a tinge annoying and it brought back the self consciousness he'd thought he finally managed to weed out. The Chinese man's expression was that same expression he had when he recalled being found after the disaster in the Asian Branch. In nine years, Bak hadn't changed a damn bit. It was a look of disbelief, sympathy and anger. No one could ever say Bak didn't care about his people—in any case.

"Did you come here on request of the old man?"

"Yes. Well, partially. I came here on request between him and Komui." His eyes moved between the "A', the collar and his butchered hair—which they didn't even have the decency to cut the longer strands that were annoying the shit out of the man. It made his stomach crawl and he didn't even know all the details.

Even without details, he knew this boy didn't deserve _this._

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: lol WakeToSanity, am I breaking all yer emotions yet?  
><em>


	16. Chapter 16

**Persecution. Sixteen**

"I don't think there's much you can do. I've already been convicted. Being caught in the act makes it hard to deny."

"Not to pry, but what exactly happened? All I've really been told is what could be safely transmitted over radio in code words. Komui didn't detail me everything and Lavi only knew so much." Bak moved out of the direct view of the window in the door—on the chance someone might pass by.

"I'm marked for adultery and homosexuality; it shouldn't take much to guess." He held a passive look that didn't seem to be enough for Bak, so he continued, "I raped Allen Walker."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"It's what I've been convicted and branded for," Kanda stared at him with boredom practically oozing out of his expression. He was going to get tired of this argument. If they would just let him go with it, he could move on and let everyone hate him.

"I know Walker. You would have to seriously fight to do something to him that he wouldn't want. You were never the type who liked to waste time either, even when you were smaller. So what really happened?"

Kanda sighed and pressed his head back against the cold bricks of the wall. "We've been skirting around Howard Link for a while now. It just so happened that we miscalculated how much time we actually had. He walked in and I'm sure you can guess what took place from there."

"So you and Walker were on entirely consensual terms?"

"Yes, Bak. Ask the stupid beansprout. He'll happily blather to the whole world about it."

"If I can get close enough to him, I will ask. I'll see what I can do. This is a bit extreme and hardly even believable."

"I've always been disliked, Bak. Don't be too alarmed," he spoke softly. He was done with the conversation. He was tired and miserable, but he didn't want to give that away. The more he talked, the more he felt it. Bak had good intentions, but he knew it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. No one would care about the truth behind anything. Any credibility he had…was now gone.

He really wished he had better mobility, but he knew there was a valid damned reason for that. If he could move freely, then they'd lose him in a heartbeat. Kanda would vanish before they could understand _how_. Asians were a tricky bunch and he could have easily used Bak for his escape if he wasn't covered in talismans. "Just go, Bak. I'll be fine. Please make sure that idiot beansprout isn't bashing his skull in because I got a few marks."

"…A few marks…You haven't seen yourself have you?"

"I prefer not to," he turned his head as far from Bak as he could manage and he let his body drop to the bed. If he pretended the man didn't exist, eventually his presence in the room would cease and he was right. He heard Bak leave after a few thought filled moments. It was touching that Bak and the Old Bastard were out to protect him…but he knew how the Church operated. It didn't matter what his jurisdiction was. Even if he was bound to Asia first, the European branch would simply overrule the matter.

_All of this shit…when I should be fighting Akuma. _

Ridiculous…

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: Thanks for the reviews loves! I'm bombarding you with updates again. Haha!  
><em>


	17. Chapter 17

**Persecution. Seventeen**

With nothing but time to think, he considered his current usefulness to the Order. Certainly they didn't view him as entirely disposable; otherwise he would already be dead, but he couldn't understand what their purpose was in holding him in like this. He was an exorcist. His 'talents' were being wasted for something so small in comparison to what he'd managed to accomplish. He'd taken down a Noah, for god's sake. Both he and Allen had given up so much, when they had given even more.

Suddenly a cold spot in his heart opened up and in slipped the little regrets of the words he'd screamed at his companion. Obviously, he meant none of the words he'd said in his desperate attempt to make Allen shut up. If he really hated the annoying brat, then he would have never shared his body with him. He was nothing if not prudent.

Closing his eyes he let his mind drift back over the details of Allen's face; but all he could see was the terrified, hurt and angry eyes that were cast on him days before. Before the words even fell out of his mouth, he'd known he would hurt his white-haired lover. Worst of all, it didn't even seem to affect Allen's decision to openly declare it was him or that it wasn't nonconsensual.

He missed the warm body he'd gotten comfortable with.

Not that he would openly admit that information; but to some extent, he knew he'd come to a point where he couldn't just dismiss the boy from his life and move on. For not being one for attachments, he sure made the biggest attachment he could possibly make. Love had been a silly noun that he'd dismissed from the very beginning and had only grown to scoff at; but undeniably, that's what his attachment to Allen Walker was. Maybe that was why remembering the details of Allen's angry—hurt—expression unsettled him so much.

When he had no power to do anything, all he could think to do was push away and even that seemed to fail to some extent. The thoughts trickled in until he considered deeply that he may not see Allen again. Of all things to feel unsettled about, that one sent the uncomfortable chills down his skin where not even the cold air could touch. Both of them, so screwed up and backed into lonely corners, had somehow managed to merge their corners together. They were being forced apart again and this was much harder than the opposite.

Hours ticked by. The passage of time was steady, but his thoughts weren't. As his brain started to compose itself, calm and calculating, the time vanished; lost to his considerations of how this could be fixed. Always, it came back around to leaving this hellhole. After what they had done, it wouldn't be difficult to cut ties with the Black Order and vanish—but only if he could take Allen with him. If he couldn't, then there was no point at all.

"When did he become my reason for everything?" He muttered to himself in the quiet room—just to hear something other than the deafening silence that had begun to drive into his mind like a bad dream. Unfortunately, it wasn't a bad dream. It was reality. It shouldn't even surprise him, but somehow it did. Reality was usually worse than the nightmares; but this was so far into 'this can't be happening', that it didn't seem even possible.

Not that he expected any better from the Church, but perhaps he expected better than _this_. This was just cruel to degrees that made the Noah seem inviting. At least they seemed to act like a family. The Black Order was more like a Master and Slave situation. At the moment, Kanda was even below Slave status. They may as well have killed him.

Just like that one man had whispered.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: Many apologies for delays. There's really no excuse for this one, but the hiatus made my brain shift the direction of this. The ending may be a surprise. Thank you for following along everyone!  
><em>


	18. Chapter 18

**Persecution. Eighteen**

He really had no desire to die. On top of the things he'd really wanted to do, he had Allen. The boy was slipping as it was and he had been there to keep his pieces together. Not knowing where he was and what he was doing, made another concerned spot well up in his chest. Allen's confession may have been ignored on the surface, but it was possible that they weren't as willing to forgive him behind the nice little show they'd made of it. Sick bastards. All of them.

Soft rapping at the door did nothing to encourage movement in him. After days of this, he'd just allowed himself a routine of telling them to fuck off. Until he knew Allen's status, he was not eating. He'd told them that a multitude of times. Disgruntled and weary guards had learned that fighting with him was essentially like kicking a steel door without shoes. The door didn't give a shit and the only one who suffered was the moron who repeatedly kicked it.

"Go the fuck away, I haven't changed my mind," he mumbled, just above a whisper. It would be loud enough to be heard—like it always was.

"Kanda."

"What the fuck did I just say—Bak?" Blinking in the darkness and turning his head just a bit toward the light filtering into his room, the realization came that this wasn't even the time they would usually bother him anyway. Time was a lost concept, but he'd been capable enough to judge the time based on what little light he had from his window and the slots in the door.

"Yes, it's me. I'm sorry, I don't have much time, I'm not supposed to be here. But I wanted to let you know that we've been granted rights to bring you back to the Asian Branch."

"Wha…what? How in the fuck did you?" Moving was a chore, but it was the natural reaction that came with that sort of information. Trying to sit up was more than the effort his starving body had, but this was the best thing he'd heard since the whole thing started. If he could get back to Asia, he was certain he could escape from there without much interference. Getting back to Allen might be a challenge; but once he did, they'd disappear and go about everything in their own way.

A sullen voice, however, didn't make this seem as fantastic as he wanted to think of it as. "I asked them on behalf of the Master and they agreed, as long as we kept you within the compound. Walker is being relocated to the North American branch."

So…they wanted them as unreachable to each other as possible. On different land masses, separated by the enormity of the Ocean. It was their intent to make certain that the two of them could never cross paths again. But, was it wise to even restrict two of the more powerful exorcists from working together? It was probable that the Black Order didn't care anymore. Looking at how outclassed they were in every aspect…did humanity stand a chance anyway?

Allen Walker being a Noah was the only hope some of them seemed to have—no less a Noah that seemed to have a complete disregard for his brothers and sisters. It only made sense to break that boy of any attachments. By comparison, he was completely disposable anyway.

"How is beansprout doing?"

"…He's not doing so well, Kanda." The cry of fingers gripping the cold metal bars of the window reached his ears like a distress signal. "They…they told him that you died."

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: As one asked, this one has a bit more, but it's not going to be long long like some of them. This was an experiment to see how I would do writing in short spurts. Turns out, I can write full chapters just as efficiently as short ones. Thank you for tolerating my absences!  
><em>


	19. Chapter 19

**Persecution. Nineteen**

"They fucking told him what!" Nonuse of his voice had his throat raw just from that outburst, but the only thing he felt was the sinking of his own heart. Breathing hurt. A lie of that magnitude…would break his companion. After he calmed down enough to really think about it, he had to wonder if the beansprout would really believe something like that. They couldn't just kill Kanda Yuu. He didn't die very easily. "He couldn't have believed that, Bak."

"I…honestly haven't been able to get close enough to confirm whether or not he did, but they told him that you committed suicide. From what I understand, they must have explained it in a way that he took seriously. What little conversation I could get out of Komui following it, was littered with disturbing code wording."

"What good could they possibly do telling him that I'm dead?" His voice was beginning to pitch and a cold slick of fear trickled through his system. Allen had already been struggling. The Noah in his head had been pushing him down and wearing him thin. Suddenly, the most uncomfortably feeling of dread came over him and he fought helplessly against his bonds. He had to get out. "Bak…BAK. When are they moving him?"

"Kanda?"

"_When!_"

"Within the next few days, but Kanda, there's nothing I can do to get you out of here without having the entire order up in flames over it. There are far too many CROW and too many able exorcists to stop you from getting to him."

"I don't care. I'll figure a way out of here, because they can't just haplessly lie to beansprout and not expect consequences," Kanda grunted, fighting his bonds helplessly. He knew there was still no chance of breaking free without some outside assistance. These bonds were tailored to hold him down.

A moment of silence passed between the nearly empty room and the door and for a moment, Kanda believed Bak had already left. But shuffling behind the heavy door asserted that the blond was still present. "What do you mean consequences?"

"Consequences Bak!" He snapped, not in the mood to have to explain the obvious. Or rather…perhaps it was only obvious to him. Perhaps he was the only one who could see Allen's continuous struggle with the oppressing power of the 14th Noah. Of course, he was also the one that the brat confided in when his fears of breaking under the pressure were too much to handle in silence. "Did these motherfuckers think that there wouldn't be any in fucking with moyashi's emotions? We all know he's a giant fucking walking heart. How the hell could they possibly think this would be a good idea!"

"I don't know what to do, Kanda. The entire Black Order is in a ruckus about this. All I can do is transfer you back to China and we'll figure out how to get word to Walke—"

"That's not going to be soon enough, Bak!" He bit his tongue to keep his voice below screaming. The hot spark of panic roiled up through his system and nearly made him dizzy. All he could think about was the possible reaction Allen was having. If it he actually believed them….

_Please don't fall for it, moyashi. _

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: Not dead. I swear.  
><em>


	20. Chapter 20

**Persecution. Twenty**

"Shit, Kanda. I have to go, I can hear voices. I'll try my very best to get back here before we move you. I don't know how this procedure is going to go, but I promise I will try to see if I can't get in contact with Allen…at least enough to let him know you're alive."

"…Thank you Bak. Go. Last thing we need is you getting in trouble for my sake," he hissed, the tone of his voice encouraging the blond to vacate before he ended up a conspirator to the blasphemer. The shuffling behind the door told him that Bak had wavered before he finally slipped away from the area. He couldn't blame the blond, really. That man's family had been connected to him and his history for long enough that it only made sense they might try to reach out and protect him at least a fractional degree.

But even the comfort of having someone still willing to protect him wasn't enough to quell the bubbling distaste that finally overloaded his tired mind once the other Asian man was gone. Beansprout wasn't stable. He was fighting a battle in his head—and with himself—that Kanda had been helping with, trying to keep the younger man together.

And the last words he's spoken to Allen….

"Fuck," he hissed to himself, feeling the hard slap of regret splintering his ability to keep himself together. He knew with exact certainty that Allen would never have believed the bullshit words that he'd spewed out of his mouth—to try and save face for the boy that had ended up spilling everything anyway. The white-haired little brat had even told him he didn't believe that for one damned second.

With a very good reason, of course. Allen knew that Kanda wouldn't just share his body with anyone. He also had to know that Kanda wouldn't take a fall that huge—punishment that severe—for just anyone. As proud and tall as Kanda Yuu stood before, he'd dropped to his knees and bared his neck to the wolves within the Black Order in an attempt to prevent the public humiliation for Allen.

To think they'd told him that he was dead? _Dead?_ Allen Walker, the other stupid half of this overwhelming problem, had openly admitted to being a consensual partner; when he'd already been given the perfect chance to preserve his image. If the feelings weren't as strong in return, Kanda hardly believed Allen would have done something as insanely brash as that.

Flailing helplessly against his bonds, he realized with an unsettling horror that he was actually stuck. Without any outside help, he was caged and along with that thought, it occurred to him painfully that the Order telling Allen that he was dead might possibly be less of a lie and more of a prediction of the future. Exorcist or not, he had already been marked to be euthanized in his first year of 'life'. Bitterness crept back through his thoughts and he definitely didn't put it passed them to try and finish what they failed to do in the past, before the tragedy resulted in a mass slaughter in the Asian branch.

He was considerably less necessary than Allen as he was. The beansprout had a vagrant Noah living in his mind…one who knew how to kill the other Noah. The younger man also had reached a perfect synchronization with his Innocence, where Kanda had yet to accept his Innocence as more than a curse. He was perfectly disposable.

_Shit. _

The word collided with reality when he heard the heavy slide of the door lock and the seals being removed with static zips. Bak had left upon hearing these particular footsteps coming closer. There was a distinctive click a CROW's heels made and these were definitely one of those.

"Can I help you gentlemen today?" He sneered up at the silhouette of the first CROW member to enter.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: Not dead. I swear.  
><em>


	21. Chapter 21

**Persecution. Twenty-One**

He stared up at the large CROW man with an expression that he knew could only serve to piss him off. Certainly, looking up at someone, who was attempting to intimidate, with a gaze of passiveness was only going to end poorly for someone. Seeing as he was the one strapped down so tight that breathing hurt, it was clear that he was in for another night of suffering.

"We've been sent here to make certain you eat properly tonight, Kanda Yuu."

Well, that was certainly not what he was expecting to hear from the intimidating man, but he also knew there was more to it than just that. It was no secret that he'd refused all nourishment offered since he'd been tossed in the room without care. It wasn't even the fear of being poisoned. While he could think of better ways to die, being poisoned was actually fairly merciful. Somehow, he didn't figure that was the purpose behind this. It would take too much effort to kill him with such a menial method.

"And if I say I'm not hungry?" His voice was low and choked from the struggle to breathe. He'd been struggling in that position for a bit, but his vocals had pushed him to strain harder.

"I'm afraid that's not going to do anything for you, Mr. Kanda," the sharp voice wasn't playing games with him. They weren't opening any door for his smart remarks and he wasn't sure he had any room in his lungs to exhale any more. Additionally, more precious air was pulled from him when another man entered the room and the two of them hoisted him vertical.

The snapping of his spine reminded him that he hadn't been in a proper standing position in a while and the pressure of his bonds hurt him to the point where he nearly expressed it vocally. However, he refused to show an ounce of weakness to these bastards and he bit his tongue to hide the silent suffering that his body was experiencing just from being moved from his place of constant imprisonment.

He actually didn't know what felt worse, the crackles of his spine as they brought him up or the painful grinding of his body as they sat him down in the chair he'd yet to be properly acquainted with due to his bound state. It was obvious they weren't going to unbind him while he was physically capable and it was a shame…all he would need would be enough slack to get one arm free and he could have them all face down within moments.

That was obviously the reasons why he was bound up tighter than he imagined anyone else would ever have to be. The Order created him, and as such, knew he was dangerous. "You're wasting your time," he managed to suck in enough air to breathe out the words. "I'm just going to vomit it back up."

"We'll see about that."

That answer didn't please him in the least. It made unfortunate suggestions that he wasn't going to be able to fight off whatever they were planning to do to him; and suddenly, he felt like he was uncomfortably cornered. It wasn't fear that snuck up into him but unwavering concern that directed itself at whether or not he could get out of this.

The large hands that held him still made him instantly tighten his muscles and he wired his jaw shut, refusing to make it an easy fight. It wasn't exactly clear what they were trying to shove down his throat, but they were making an effort of it now that he gathered what strength he had into keeping them from actually getting it into his mouth. This could not just be a standard meal and he grumbled deep in his throat when he felt fingers bearing down on his jaw.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _He cursed in his head trying not to give in, but as his eyes watered and the pressure increased exponentially, he wavered. It was enough for them to nearly crack his jaw, trying to shove whatever horrific thing they'd called food into his mouth. Natural instincts to chew or choke came over him and he begrudgingly pulled the piece of some kind of awful spiced bread between his teeth to keep from asphyxiating himself.

The first two chews were done through a near gag and the third time his teeth came down he felt something crack between his teeth. It took him a long moment before his tongue picked up the taste and the dry powder. Alarms set off in his mind and he thrashed nearly helplessly, trying not to swallow—but he found himself being forced by natural reflex and the insistent coaxing of the two men that had come with a mission to complete.

If that hadn't been bad enough, he'd tried to breathe over the large hand covering his mouth and only seemed to be completely blocked off. Air felt lost to him and he tried desperately to gather it in his burning lungs. He nearly carved his teeth into the large hand in desperation. As his vision blurred, and he tried again to bite down on the hand covering his face, he realized the hand was no longer there.

Blinking slowly, he realized he couldn't see clearly anymore and his body was beginning to fail in responding to his commands.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. _

His skin prickled with near numbness and the bigger man hoisted him from the chair and dropped him back on the uncomfortable bed. Nothing responded. None of his limbs could move, no matter how he tried to fight. Even as all the binds were stripped off his body and he was perfectly freed from captivity…he could not move.

"Fuck," he gritted over his numbed tongue. He was beginning to be unable to keep his eyes from fluttering shut and he realized what had happened just as he'd lost his vision. After the world turned black, he wasn't certain when his consciousness went with it.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: One of the longer chapters actually, I guess that's a present for you guys...As you all throw shit at me for being such a giant asscracker to Kanda. pfft.  
><em>


	22. Chapter 22

**Persecution. Twenty-Two**

When his eyes snapped open, he found himself staring at a light over his head with the ceiling as an uncomfortable backdrop. The light was blinding and made him turn his head instinctively. The motion to move his head made him realize that the rest of his body felt immobile. His arm wouldn't move from its location and it his brain had difficulty understanding it for several long moments until he finally came around and blinked the haze out of his vision. It then became very apparent where he was.

A sudden trickle of actual fear clamored through his body and he focused his strength into the binds that were holding his arms. He knew, however, that there was no point in doing so. He was being held down to a platform that he distinctively remembered from the past. The memory of staring up at that same scene had caused a panic to bubble in his chest until he was making pained grunts from the force he was trying to break free with.

"There's no point in putting that much effort into it," a man's voice broke the silence and stopped him cold. He felt his blood settle low in his body until it seemed like he had simply turned stone. The feeling was ugly and he knew what was coming afterward. At least before, he could try to lose his fear by reaching out to an illusion that disappeared with the icy wind that tore through his soul. This time, his arms and legs appeared to be harshly strapped down.

"…You…You…why?' He muttered, staring at an empty space that would prevent him from showing any regard to the bastards who had drugged him. It was his assumption that they were simply going to kill him, but this….this was even worse. Death would be preferable to this.

"We cannot afford to lose you, Kanda Yuu. You're a very valuable exorcist, but this is a problem. We cannot have you interfering with what we can get out of the 14th. It was originally suggested to euthanize you permanently so that you would not ruin our chances at harnessing whatever the 14th could give us. I had my men drug you so we could bring you here. You're familiar with this?"

"…Yes." The whisper barely cracked air, but it sounded like a desperate scream in his head. It sounded like a shrieking noise tearing through his mind, body and his heart. This was not what he wanted. This was never a thing he'd ever want. He wanted to scream. He wanted to beg. The last precious thing he'd had was going to be taken away from him through the process of continual mental euthanization. It was a painful, horrible process that left his body broken and his mind in a fog of lost memories.

"We're going to keep you as you are, but we'll be making certain you don't have enough memories of Allen Walker or the 14th for it to become an unnecessary distraction. We will also be making efforts to ensure that the two of you are no where within reach of each other."

_No. _

"Allen Walker will be transferred overseas."

_No…No…._

"You will remain here and I will be placing you under Tiedoll's strict care once again. He has been given orders to restrain you and bring you back if you show signs of relapse. The same formulated drug used before is in his possession."

_No…NO… NO…Please no…_

His mind was screaming, settling him into a state of horrid confusion and hurt. The worst thing they could possibly do to him was being done. Never mind the permanent letter A. never mind the ridiculous collar. Never mind any of the humiliation, starvation and abuse he'd suffered. The only thing that could possibly cut him like a knife in his heart was the one thing they'd actually thought to do. What sorry monsters. What pieces of shit, he thought. The bitterness and hate, pure hate, welled up in his chest and he bit down on his lip. The view before him lost its clarity and he tried to suppress the horrible feelings attacking his heart.

Cold air collided with the wet trail that had formed at sometime along the curves of his face. The platform his body was placed on was going to kill him—over and over and he could feel it beginning and he couldn't even fight it.

Turning his head back to stare up at nothing but the washed-out light above, he pleaded to no avail. They were set on this, but he felt a compulsion to do it anyway. Alone in the darkness once more, his mouth moved—a nearly silent prayer—and he blinked the last tear down his face.

"Please….don't take his memories from me…"

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: I almost feel like a dick for this chapter.  
><em>


	23. Chapter 23

**Persecution. Twenty-Three**

"Are you certain this worked?"

"It should have, we followed what was left of the notes from that experiment...What was used on previous experiments to erase memories. Repeatedly to be certain, he'll have to be retrained in certain things, but it should have been fairly successful. If it comes down to it, we can do it again until we've washed out anything that could distract him."

"I really do hope this is worth the aggravation."

Voices around him were unfamiliar and the words seemed muddled together. He wracked his brain to try and understand them. The pieces of what he should know and what he currently knew where scattered together on the floor like a blank jigsaw puzzle and he felt like a child trying to cram pieces together. Did he know these white robed men? He didn't think so. They didn't look like any of the scientists from back _then_, and they were all dead anyway…so who were they? And why were they…

Sharp painful shocks continued trickling down his body in waves that he couldn't restrain and his thought process was utterly shattered. The pain that had shot from his chest, up his spine and exploded in his mind left him feeling numb and motionless for the moment, while they unstrapped his limp limbs.

"Clean him up a bit. Make him presentable before we return him to his General."

"Yessir."

"Has _he_ been relocated yet?"

"No sir, _he's_ being deported the day after tomorrow."

"Excellent, make sure this one does not see_ him_ at all. I don't want to risk his memories slipping back."

The voices kept going, speaking words that made no sense to him really. He could understand that they were talking about him. He wasn't stupid enough to forget that they had purposefully omitted memories from the second exorcists for the sake of their stability. He couldn't forget their attempt to kill him for the memories that had managed to filter in. But what was he forgetting now? What had been suppressed? It hurt to think about. Electric shocks made him bite his tongue once he'd gotten his bearings, recovering from the traumatic electro-magic shocks that rewired his thoughts.

The CROW men lifted him from his flat position, forcing him to his feet—though he didn't have the response enough to actually will his muscles to hold him. His nerves twitched and burned. The thick wet gurgling of blood rising in his throat nearly left him choking and he dropped his head, coughing the red liquid down his front without the ability to stop it. After the second heavy heave, he choked back any further outward reactions. Whatever he had been forced to forget, he was fairly certain that he wasn't happy about it, nor did he think that he was particularly fond of these people. The natural instinct to not give these people the satisfaction of seeing him like this kicked in. Even so…He wobbled, feeling weaker than he ever wanted to feel.

_Shit, everything is a blur._

What am I forgetting.

What was taken…

Who was taken…

Who was _he?_

Dark eyes remained unfocused, staring at the harsh cold floor; desperately trying to recount the last memories. He had gone on a mission, but he couldn't even remember the mission. Obviously, he returned…but what happened?

Flashes in his mind meant nothing. He couldn't see a face, hear a voice…no name…he had nothing. Nothing…nothing but silver.

Silver.

_Silver._

What was silver?

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: If you thought it couldn't get worse. This story is going to kill half of you and your feels. And I will gladly take those feels.  
><em>


	24. Chapter 24

**Persecution. Twenty-Four**

He stood before the large mirror, staring at a foreign face. Or rather, the face was his, but marked and framed by short wisps of hair. The ends of the once long strands bothered at his neck and danced over the green collar. The pads of his fingers ran along the emerald painted metal marked with a symbol. So, that is why he had been purged once more? Even his lack of memory wasn't enough to leave in question what he could have done.

The red A had spoken volumes. He could feel it burning in his skin. Adultery. Had he really? That didn't seem like him at all…but yet…it seared his flesh—as if he could feel the brand first hand. He couldn't even will his fingers to graze over that mark. It hurt without contact, but he couldn't understand why. The brand was just a mark, not a wound. And it was red, not silver.

So why could he only see silver?

Nothing relevant had ever been silver in his life, but somewhere in his mind he yearned for it. The silver frame of the mirror had begun this train of thought this time. Before, it had been the sheen of an ornament in the halls leading to this to this room and before even that, it was the silver rings on a hand of a CROW agent.

Could it be associated with _him_?

That pronoun meant nothing to him, but his head ached trying to think about any he that could be connected to silver. Blasphemy and adultery. Green for symbolism of homosexuality. _He _had been relevant, but what did _he_ have to do with silver?

"Yuu?"

A voice came in from behind him and he didn't even have the will in him to protest the name use. His thoughts were far so lost in trying to piece together his broken memories. For whatever reason, he could distinctly remember a feeling of humiliation associated with being in the sight of his General behind him. He wanted to ask why, but he knew no answers would be given. They told him, as they trimmed the uneven ends of his chopped hair, that he was forbidden to ask of things that were no longer relevant to his job.

In all, they'd so carefully avoided giving anything away. It made his soul scream. Frustration and irritation welled up until he choked down the desire to just scream. To suck in a breath and exhale the body shaking shriek that echoed in his heart somewhere. Instead, he stared blankly at the mirror. He knew he should give up fighting his mind for the answers. But it left a burning itch. He wanted to know. He wanted to know so bad that his face felt inflamed and his eyes burned.

"I'm coming…in just a moment," he finally answered, bearing the heaviness in his chest for long enough to cast a confirming look. He knew though, that his expression was probably dead. It was hard to really feel anything, when certain feelings were welling up in him—trying to curl around one single fact that _it_ was no longer available to him.

Every motion he made was numb. Even now, nearly thirty hours since he'd been _fixed_, he was in a fog. Not his mind, nor his body; he was perfectly alert and aware. It was the emotions he thought he'd never have to see again. The perfect walls he'd constructed were crumbling at his feet and the blurring of his vision was nearly uncontrollable. What was silver?

Why wouldn't this question leave his mind?

It was gone.

Not coming back.

So why…Why couldn't he just…forget entirely. It would be easier. It would quench this desire. This need to reach out to whatever _silver_ meant.

He turned his heads as he heard the sound of things crashing along the wall of the corridor. The image in his head was of a wall decoration, as he couldn't think of anything else that could shatter upon impact into the floor. An angry scream echoed into the room and he made a face. If it wasn't bad enough that he had screaming in his head, now he had screaming outside of it too?

The muffled cry seemed to get louder and it was followed by more screams. For a second he considered darting out of the room and standing the offender down, but his General turned to face the doorway of the room and blocked him from his quick impulse. He could still get around him, if need be—but that told him that it wasn't really necessary to get involved in things outside of his given duties. He wasn't much of a free man before and he was much less now.

"…..N….DA!"

Sounds were lost across the crashes and screaming from others—many of whom he assumed were CROW—but he tried to listen from his place next to Tiedoll, who seemed to wear a somber expression. That alone concerned him, really. Tiedoll was an emotional man, but only when a situation dictated it. He watched his General discreetly, looking for any other reactions. Everything was foreign to Kanda, after all. His memories were washed of a good chunk of time.

A body darted across the open doorway and he only saw it out of the corner of his eye and for the briefest of moments.

Even in that barest instant, he unmistakably saw _silver._ His muscles twitched and the burning in his chest continued until he left his General's side in the swiftest dash out the door his body could allow him. He couldn't explain the impulse.

But he was drawn…

To silver.

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: I feel like these chapter get longer and longer. Pfft. Thank you guys, for not murdering me in my sleep yet.  
><em>


	25. Chapter 25

**Persecution. Twenty-Five**

He felt a hand attempt to catch him before his feet managed to bring him out into the hall where everything seemed to be turned up in chaos. He paused only long enough to catch his surroundings, taking in the devastated corridor—lined with long claw-like gashes in the brick. People littered to the opposite way from the form that was tearing across down the hall.

Another body shot passed him and a flicker of memory nearly left him reeling before he willed himself to take after the blond man that had some place in the lost echoes of his mind. The blond braid whirled effortless in the air behind this man was he looked back with a dazed expression at him. Those eyes widened in something of obvious recognition and a temporary flit of panic.

"Corner him and get him back to the main quarters. Do not let him come back this way!" This man's voice carried far passed Kanda's range of movement and it only served to make him want to chase down the elusive figure he saw screaming passed the open door.

He needed to see that man.

Something was screaming in him to follow him. Something told him this person could have the answers that he needed so desperately.

But his body felt like lead. In as much as he wanted to move, he realized that he could no longer keep any pace and stopped, struggling just to keep his body standing.

Seals.

CROW seals.

Of course. He had been surrounded by these men. They were littering the halls and they were all armed completely— this blond man as well, apparently.

"Kanda Yuu, I'm going to have to escort you back to your General. This is not business you are to be made part of," the regal young man's tone was painfully clipped and serious. But there was a tone in it and a strange look he cast toward Kanda that made the Asian man wonder. Did this man know him as well? And why did he appear to have some sort of guilty chip on his shoulder?

"Who is that man?" He asked; body desperate to take another step. Without realizing the intensity of his instincts, he pushed the binds with the force of his need to break them. Everything in him was welling up with a clamoring panic to catch up to that blur.

"That man is none of your concern," the Inspector turned, eyes steeled and broken off from the downcast expression he'd had before. He had realized, with some degree of concern, that Kanda Yuu could very well be someone capable of tearing through CROW seals, so he had no choice but to drop his pursuit and focus on returning the exorcist to his General. "Please stop and come with me before you get involved in unnecessary issues."

The dark–haired man wasn't convinced by that play though. Even the softer tone of the blonde's voice wasn't capable of deterring his mind from the look he'd caught before. "You're a lying sack of shit," he growled lowly. Somewhere deep in him he knew that he should shut his mouth and continue on like nothing happened. However, some part of him trembled to remember how he'd gotten to this point; it was the same points of him that were clawing—scratching at his bending spine until he caved, cracked under the pressure to the point where he had to pursue it. "Who is that man!" Insistence clawed at his throat and he turned his head to see another CROW man closing in on him. Eyes narrowed defensively and he couldn't repress the snarl that came up.

But the man was larger and not constricted by the binds like he was. Shit. Shit. He was going to be dragged away again with no answers and that feeling returned. The feeling that left his chest caving and breathing felt like a struggling effort.

If he let it go now, he may never see this person again. For whatever reason, he knew that for a fact. There was an emptiness hollowing a hole where his heart should be beating and even as the larger man's hands held him in place—trapping him between another man—and preventing him from moving, he felt a compulsion to try.

The world faded around him and all he could feel was the painful desperation that came out of no where. It was like he was drowning, burning, suffocating on the distance that had come between he and a complete fuckin stranger. Help him, he didn't understand it. Nothing made sense to his scattered memories.

If he didn't see that person again…

If he didn't reach them…

His life was over. He was over. What had he done before that had woven himself so deeply to this stranger? Body and soul screamed for him. Reaching his arm out, he clawed frantically at dead air—squirming against the grasp of two people who had him deadlocked.

He couldn't hear his own voice spilling out of his lungs, but he could feel the burn and he sucked in breath again as if he hadn't done so in hours—only to open his voice out across the halls again. The silence in his head nearly made him scream at himself. It was like he was trying to cry for someone, only to say nothing at all. The futility was killing him from the inside and he wasted his breath on sounds that never reached his ears.

But the only person who couldn't hear the name that flew harrowingly off his tongue was Kanda himself.

"ALLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!"

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: So...can I have your feels yet?  
><em>


	26. Chapter 26

**Persecution. Twenty-Six**

The world moved in slow motion around him and he nearly felt like he was out of his own body, frantically reaching for a person he didn't even remember. A plethora of thoughts ran through his head and among them was wondering if he should let it go. Let this fragment of memory slip through his fingers and pretend it was never there.

It almost worked with Alma.

Right?

His body was too tired between his struggling; the two men holding him with more force than any normal man could stand and the seals that felt like they were turning his blood into lead inside his veins and arteries. Even the sound of his body desperately pulling air into his lungs felt weak and slow. All he could do was submit and he slacked against the strong hold of the larger CROW man. He needed to let it slip away, but he knew he couldn't. His mind wasn't going to stop falling back on it and his eyes never left the long stretch of corridor.

The screaming and loud sounds of glass shattering and walls being cracked still filtered up the hall. He'd missed the silver blur, but it hadn't gone so far that it was out of reach…if he could get free, that is. That alone was torturing and making it harder to just let go. Did they want them not to see each other so badly that it had come to this?

"….N….DA!"

Real time slipped back at a snail's pace, but the harsh sounds echoing up the hall pulled him by force. The sounds he'd heard before. The same hollow scream that seemed vaguely laced with the desperation that filled him with every second he remained captive—held back from a truth that he needed. What had they done to deserve this? What was it that has happened, that had been so horrible to bring it down to this?

The brands on his body told him only what the Church wanted him to know—only the messages they stood behind, but he couldn't trust them feeling like this. If he had committed crimes worthy of the painful knife wrenching into his heart, then why did every part of him scream like it was so very wrong.

Movement at the end of the hall, followed by a CROW body being thrown several feet across the intersected pathway, drew his focus. It snapped him out of a deaf haze and he clamored to get a full—clear shot of the one who was forcing his way back through the collection of CROW that were ordered to make sure he didn't come back this way.

It was obvious that they weren't quick enough for the silver blur—draped with a white fluffed cape and a mask glistening just under his chin from where it dropped clear from his face. His left arm was warped into polished black claws at the end and it was clear that those claws were capable of collateral damage—explaining the marks in the hall. The figure dashing in his direction was screaming—sounds dropping from his mouth in pitched howls that sunk to his core.

The movement of this figure was just so beyond the abilities of the men who had tried to subdue him. This man simply outclassed the group of them and the gleam of his Innocence over his body showed just how much determination he had to return back down the hall—running directly at him. Eyes connected directly with his.

And all he could do was stare; watching the figure tear up the corridor with urgency—as if his very sense of life depended on making it to his location. During the process, Kanda could only watch—detached and confused—eyes clouding over because he just…

…Could not place that face in his memory.

He thought…he thought if he saw him, that he could try and piece something together…but…It was blank, empty. Cold. So cold—like he was being blockaded by a wall that only let the barest of reflections from the other side through.

"KANDA!"

The desperate tenor lacing through the younger man's voice rang so clear in his ears now, but there was nothing there to trigger the response he nearly begged himself to have. All he knew was the longing somewhere in him for this person was suffocating and the world blurred around him as he slacked against the larger man again. This person knew his name. This person knew him. But…he knew nothing in return.

"Kanda…." His voice was clearer, closer...he slowed, stopping just out of arms reach—everything in Kanda wanted to reach out. Even as the stranger was immediately dogpiled by three other CROW men who were trying—and failing—to pull the silver haired man away from him. "You're…alive…You're…" The voice hitched and Kanda could hear the force of a sob being held back harder than the men who had barely restrained him.

Something snapped inside Kanda and it opened a whole flood gate of feelings that he was suddenly drowning in. There was a sense of relief in there somewhere, but he really didn't know why and what it was directed at; but looking up through his hazed vision, blinking liquid drops down his face, he opened his mouth and said the only thing his brain could even allow him.

"…I'm sorry. I…I know I love you… But I…"

He couldn't even breathe anymore, looking into a confused face—marked by a red curse. The look on that face made his chest constrict harder and he nearly dropped his head before he could speak the rest of it.

"…I…don't remember who you are."

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: No breaks. I'm never done hurting you people with this.  
><em>


	27. Chapter 27

**Persecution. Twenty-Seven**

The chaotic hallway seemed to stop in silence as the words had hit the stranger like a punch to the gut. Kanda could see this. He could see the horrified look beginning in the snowy-haired man's eyes. Those silver eyes were dilated and he could see the muscles in his neck through skin as he visibly ground his teeth. What could he say? What could he do? He wanted to know. The things that he couldn't reach for were breaking him and all he could do was watch the man before him as his countenance slowly warped into something much less endearing.

There was a new kind of fury showing and he wanted to reach out but couldn't. He was still contained in the grasp of people who had him in their control. His mind was too scrambled to try and make sense or fight it. All he felt he had the power to do was stand and watch as his entire world was crashing around him in blank pieces at his feet. The very world his heart said was everything to him was nothing but empty thoughts that he couldn't even read.

"What….What do you mean…" The trembling voice whispered raggedly to him and his eyes connected with silver, refusing to lose his gaze. "You can't…you can't….No…" Heat trickled along his skin in shivers, like he was being prodded with hot needles and his breath drained. The constriction in his chest was nearly suffocating as he tried to bring himself to reply. He was begging his body to know what to say because the look in the other male's eyes was terrifyingly lost.

"I'm sorry," he heard his own voice in his ears and it made him feel ill. The frantic feeling was making him react in a way he'd never remembered feeling before. It hurt. _Hurt. _

"…What…what did they do you to you Kanda? What did they do?" That angry face seemed to come alive as the emotion overwhelmed him. The subtle shaking of his body slowly became animated to the point where he was standing in front of Kanda trembling in place. Streaks of liquid dropped down his face amidst the swell of emotions he was witnessing in him. "**How do you not remember me**?!" The sweet soft voice became harsh, rising in pitch as the scream echoed in the hall. "**Kanda! Kanda. How do you not remember me?! What did they do to you!? KANDA**."

The pressure caved in on him with each word and he was nearly reeling back himself. He wished he knew. But he didn't and his throat closed up as he lost the ability to answer this man's hoarse screams as they went on.

They were now surrounded entirely. CROW men were lined in the halls around both he and this man and the lost and hurt countenance of the other completely washed away any evidence that the stranger cared about the people threatening his freedom.

To Kanda, it hurt unbearably. They were both prisoners. He was a prisoner of the Order—and so was this man it seemed. He was also a prisoner of his own mind, locked away from memories that would never come back—things precious to him that were torn from him and left only a vague feeling and a horrible guilt. He considered himself strong and capable, but here he felt small and helpless. Here he felt like all he could do was stand like a child amidst hate filled adults while he cried, begging to not have the last thing in the world that meant something be taken away.

"What did you do to Kanda!?" He screamed again and Kanda almost covered his ears to stifle the pain that rung through him as a direct result of this cry. It didn't work, but he wished it had. If it had, then watching the Guards all move in on him, binding him and pulling him away while he reached out frantically—desperately—toward him, wouldn't make him feel like this.

This feeling was beyond the worst. He felt like he'd betrayed the one who was fighting for him.

"**KANDA! NO! NO. LET GO OF ME**!" The struggling was futile now, even Kanda knew that and he watched the men separating them—taking the stranger away where his instinct knew he may never see him again. It slammed him with the nauseous suffocating feeling that was threatening his emotions and his knees finally buckled. It hadn't been that long since they'd purged his memories. He didn't know if he could watch this man scrambling and suffering. "**KANDAAAA. KANDA**."

"You have to return to your General," another voice cut in to the screaming of his name and he looked up blankly. The blond man from before was staring down at him with a look that pushed him right back down into that painful place that he didn't understand. Why was the guilt so strong on him?

"**KANDA**! The voice was still loud, but drowning as the distance between them grew and Kanda just watched him be dragged away, face streaked and eyes wild with furious and sadness and pain.

"Allen Walker, silence yourself," another office spoke, coming up the hall to follow them as they carted Allen away mid struggle. "As far as you're concerned, Kanda Yuu is now dead. He has no memories of you and thus you have no place in each other's lives. You will do wise to keep that in your mind."

"You sorry bastards…You sorry bastards, you…**YOU. YOU DID THIS TO HIM.** You…You didn't…you didn't kill Kanda…" His strong and angry voice broke off into a loud pained sob. "You…You…you just killed **me**!"

**To Be Continued...**

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><p><em>AN: I did not forget about this. It's coming down to horrible things and I think you all know it can only spiral from here.  
><em>


	28. Chapter 28

**Persecution. Twenty-Eight**

The words of that man stuck in his ears and somewhere in his heart, clinging to him painfully as he watched them drag the clearly disheartened man away. There was something so broken about the way the pale haired man was watching him the entire time he was being carted off and the dull aching continued until it hurt. Breathing felt harder than it should for something that happened over someone he didn't even know anymore. It filled him with a painful throbbing that refused to back down and as he was led away, it clawed deeper with every step. Burning in his lungs wasn't from his lack of breathing anymore, he believed.

It was from suppression of the furious howling he wanted to unleash. It alarmed him, just how much anger was beginning to pool in after he watched that stranger completely break in front of his eyes. When he'd said they killed him, it appeared that was an accurate statement; and something about that was wrong. The spark in those silver eyes that should have been there—he knew it should be there, he knew—was gone, nonexistent.

For some reason beyond his understanding, that fueled his blood with fire. Somewhere there was a ticking that was just eating away at him erratically. It took every ounce of his control to keep from lashing out and making it worse for himself. He could practically feel the "A" sizzling in the side of his face—a testament of his inability to regret the sin he couldn't even remember. And even if he had remembered it, somehow he knew he wouldn't have taken it back. There was just some feeling too strong, eating him alive, to make him believe that he was in the wrong.

"Kanda Yuu, please return to your General."

He had no idea whose voice that was, because he wasn't really listening. It wasn't until they forced the other male out of sight that he walked—letting his feet take him where ever he was instructed to go. The feeling that was consuming him was hollow. It was like his stability had been scooped out and left in that hallway with the man he may never see again. Because that was what they were planning, right? Separate them forever if it was possible.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than his brain could really register and this confusion and disorder did nothing more than piss him off. But really, he wasn't pissed off. This was so much more…instinctual than just being pissed off. He never had such an urge to kill someone—specifically any big name in the Order ranks.

This was all their doing.

The crimes he had been accused of hadn't needed to be brought to light like this.

And he didn't _need_ to have his memories ravaged out of his mind.

It was peculiar how he found himself missing something he didn't even remember, but the memories that had been swept away were something he nearly desperately wished he could have back. If only so he could feel less guilty about _him._ All these emotions overwhelming him at once until they just sat stagnant…left him cold…left him burning.

They left him reeling with turmoil until he couldn't even hear his teacher's words as he was delivered by escort back to the elder man. None of the sounds coming from the elder's mouth actually reached him beyond the surface. He was too distracted with the echo of his screaming soul, stuck in a body that was broken and mutilated beyond his control.

This was the Black Order.

This was what they did.

The monsters they fight almost looked appealing by comparison to the mental torture they seemed set on engraving into the ones they dared to call holy warriors. There was nothing holy about this. There was only suffering for the sake of ungrateful humans who would never be allowed to even know the ones who risked their lives—and souls—to save them from the annihilation that they themselves brought about.

These thoughts ran amok, falling into a rhythm with his foot falls. Leading away from that wing entirely, he remained guided by his mentor. This mentor of his was a tool of the Order as well. This was a man who had nurtured him when he wanted nothing more than to hate every human in sight. Somewhere he'd lost sight of that desire to loathe them with every fiber of his being. The General had raised him out of those feelings, but as his shoes echoed in the eerily quiet hall, he felt the sharp sting of relapse and the space between he and any other living person suddenly became wide and deep.

Fingernails dug into his palms fiercely, trembling with the desire to lash out. Trembling with the urge to hurt everyone in sight until he found his way back.

To that person.

The only person who could tell him what was in his memories. The only person who had knowledge of what they'd sacrificed their freedom for and what these brands meant at the core.

Red blotches dotted the glossy marble as they walked and he didn't even take a moment to notice—his fingers digging red liquid from his palms and down his curled fingers. The adrenaline coursing through his boiling body negated any sensation that might have made him aware of the spotted trail that dribbled behind him.

All he knew was that _they_ had been wrenched apart, leaving darkness creeping into his heart.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm not sorry that I'm so insistent on breaking everyone's hearts with this. This is the gritty reality you chose this fic for. And you're all masochists aren't you. Just like me. I knew it. And I love you for putting up with it here.  
><em>


	29. Chapter 29

**Persecution. Twenty-Nine**

His accommodations, he assumed, weren't much better now than before. He couldn't really imagine they had him in much worse of a cage than he had been placed back into after the confrontation in the hallway with what was clearly determined to be his recently past lover. Sitting in a bare room, with nothing more than a small cot as a bed seemed a little overkill, given the current situation. What exactly was he going to do now? Waiting seemed like the only real thing he could do.

Unfortunately, waiting made him think and thinking made him angry all over again. It was ridiculous. All of it. This wasn't productive for anyone and all it was doing was digging the wound deeper on his hatred of the Black Order. Thinking would lead him down an uncomfortable path and sleeping became the next choice.

The cot, he determined, was the worst thing they could have him sleeping on aside from a concrete slab. Even then, the concrete slab might feel more comfortable than the scratchy raw material he had decidedly flopped over on. Comfort was never really a big concern for him anyway, but when all he had to do was think and dwell on things, every little detail suddenly stood out like flashing lights. Even the way the cot dipped in the middle seemed to annoy and pick at the nerves he was doing his grandest to hold together.

Unfortunately, his mind was ticking and keeping him awake even as he silently begged his body to sleep. He wondered if they would have taken him back to his room if he hadn't had that reaction with that man. If he had pretended nothing was interesting and that person had no affect on him in the slightest, would they had gone about business as usual? Or was he damned to imprisonment regardless? Perhaps they might have suspected he would act like he knew nothing. Perhaps they didn't care and just wanted him out of their hair. Either way, he was not feeling positive emotions. Not that he had a long standing relationship with positive emotions, but this was enough to turn even his pissy moods into positive comparisons.

It was just…a huge suffocating feeling. Like breathing was suddenly too hard and he needed to pull his head up out of water, but there was no water. Just a burning sensation that he choked down and hoped for relief from. If he could sleep, maybe it would go away. Maybe he wouldn't have to drown in the guilt, hatred, anger, and hopelessness that seemed to be stacking relentlessly. The events that unfolded in the corridor had only been a few short hours previous to where he was now; and yet, he felt worse and worse. Heavy and uncomfortable. It was any wonder he could breathe at all with how heavy his chest felt. Like bricks stacked on top of him.

Staring at the wall was all he seemed to have the desire to do—well, aside from the internal pleas for sleep. The passage of time was something he wouldn't even be able to gauge from where he was, so it was hard to even say how long he was staring. There wasn't much in the way of noise and the few times voices even crossed his ears, it was so distant it was like whispers clinging to the walls. Even if he thought he could make out the words, it wouldn't matter. He was just too drained to get back up. The effort wasn't really worth the payout, or lack thereof.

Not even the shadows that passed over him from the light being blocked in the small window really motivated him to stir. He decidedly didn't have the energy to sit on edge for those bastards. When they wanted him, they would come to him like usual. Perhaps he would cooperate when that time came

Or perhaps he wouldn't.

The heavy sinking feeling was slowly seeping away his willingness to care. Suddenly, the Akuma didn't matter to him. The Noah and the Earl…no, they didn't matter. Fellow exorcists were all just thoughts to watch drift away. His superiors…Innocence…all of it…The Black Order?

Well.

There were special thoughts about that one. He mused darkly as his eyes began slipping shut without his knowledge. Sleep was coming up on him like the slow turn of the tide and he was there to just ride it out with the drifting thoughts.

The Black Order…

_I want to destroy it. _

* * *

><p><em>AN: I didn't forget. I just...I don't know. Man I had a writing streak for so long there and I don't know what happened. Though my creative muse came back for drawing, so maybe I'll have a writing streak again. November was the start of the last one. I will slowly finish off stories though. I won't leave any unfinished.  
><em>


	30. Chapter 30

**Persecution. Thirty**

The dark feeling continued to creep until Kanda snapped out of the sleep he never even expected to get. The boiling rage that seemed to flood his senses had died enough to get him through approximate four hours of sleep—if he was to guess based on the way the light was dim at the window. He didn't want to move, but the clicking noise of the door had him up and on guard within moments of the initial sound. There was no trust left in him—anyone on the outside was an enemy whether or not they truly were. If he trusted no one, then no one could surprise him.

It was this thought process that had him up on his feet and wary of anyone who was coming into the room. There had been an impression that he wasn't going to be called upon for a good while after the incident just before. So whoever this was either had nothing good in store for him or they weren't supposed to be there. He had felt enough. Everything he was had been violated and he was done with it. He'd kill himself before he went willingly with these people again. Too much time had been spent rolling these feelings through his mind for him not to feel strongly on this matter.

The feelings all rolled together by the time he braced himself at the center of the room. If he saw anyone who even resembled a CROW coming into the room, he was going to attack—whether it was outwardly or an inward attempt to disable himself before they would warp him again. Never again was he going to be a tool. Every nerve in his body electrified with these thoughts and perhaps it was because he'd just been jarred out of sleep, but he felt it just the same.

With no sword, he had to rely only what his body could do and he tensed when the large, solid door creaked open until it cast the outside light into his cell. The shadow of the person who opened the door eventually evened out in the room until he could clearly discern a face. The details of blond hair made a discomfited twitch twist through his form. The straight edged hair framed a pair of eyes that he seemed to want to recall in his memory but simply couldn't. What he was aware of was the feelings of loathing were flaring up like a brush fire in drought-raped landside.

"Who are you?" His voice was steady, but cautious. His guard was up so high that he could feel everything around him like there was a hypersensitivity about him. Despite his mental preparation to attack any CROW he laid eyes on, he couldn't deny the sense of hesitance that came with this one. The reasons were unknown, but there was something that stopped him.

"You…don't need to know my name," the blond man answered and it made Kanda more angry—angry because he wasn't being given any reprieve from anyone. This man knew him, but he was blind and ignorant once more. If there was a reason for keeping his name, it was lost on Kanda's inability to remember an entire chunk of his own life.

Truthfully, he didn't care about this man's name. He wanted to know what he was doing and why…or rather what they were planning to do to him—as if he hadn't already been branded, abused and isolated like some kind of heathenish monster. "What do you want…?" His voice wasn't as strong as he wanted it to be, but it came more like a defensive hiss from a cornered cat.

"I'm here for only one thing…" It was with the last word, and strange gurgling cough the man made, that Kanda realized he wasn't alright at all. He still tensed when the man's hand moved to cover his mouth, but his demeanor changed entirely once the blond CROW man wavered in place—a trail of blood drizzling from his palm and splattering down his chin. With unfocused eyes, the man gave him what he could only describe as a depressingly unsettling smile. There was nothing positive about it, but rather something unsavory and reflecting a loathing for a decision made wrong. The guilt was spelled on his face like Kanda could actually read it and that sent a shiver up his spine that he didn't imagine he'd ever feel from a stranger.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he braved to ask the question. "And what is that?"

That chilling, edge-of-death smile returned and sympathetic eyes left Kanda stepping back just in self defense of his mental response. "I'm here to give you…" a deep, haggard breath, "my sincerest apologies for what I've done to you."

The air felt colder in those moments before the person in the room stumbled forward after his last words and collapsed in an unmoving heap at his feet. Kanda had no idea what had just happened and with a loss for what to do, he started toward the exit of the room to get away from the scene before it was found by others. This was his chance to get out and get away.

Or he would have if the path hadn't already been blocked by another body.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I apologize for the delay. I've written a bit on this one, so I will be updating this one more frequently.  
><em>


	31. Chapter 31

**Persecution. Thirty-One**

The figure in the doorway stepped in, drawing a cold air into the room. Kanda's breath hitched and his mind reeled to think of what he could do with so little space and no weapon. There was no telling what this person was capable of…he didn't even know who this person was. He didn't need to, because there was a chaotic aura that was reaching out to him like something entrancing and his feet held him planted where he was.

Blood slowly seeped across the floor between he and the stranger and it was then that Kanda knew the man that had come in was already dead. He had been barely alive from the moment he unsealed the door and let himself in. Even though the death was fresh, Kanda felt like it was stagnant in the room. Just the presence had made it a suffocating atmosphere and he panted for breath.

"Who are you?" His question nearly blended into the thumping of his own heartbeat, but the stranger heard it even if Kanda himself had almost lost the ability to recognize his own voice.

"I'm no one you should fear." The reply was a strange thing. There was a softness that Kanda couldn't quite understand. The golden eyes that stared him down felt cutting, but his words felt like a gentle caress. A familiar caress and his heart ached in the familiar way he ached before—with the strange cursed kid. Before he was aware, his hand was over his chest, trying to quell the stinging anxiety that was coming from the combination of appearance and sound.

Flashes through his mind had his focus shot and he hadn't been aware of the person's approach. Dark eyes blinked down at the fallen body of the one who had apparently wronged him and more recollections flooded his mind until he felt like he was having a seizure. His own hand that was painfully digging into his chest was pulled away from him by the person he'd somehow let advance on him. Even with the chaotic body so close, he couldn't move—like he was paralyzed in place. It was both a calming and frustrating feeling and he closed his eyes I an attempt to keep himself from losing his mind.

"Don't panic," the voice soothed him and he unwillingly relaxed his body to the stranger who was invading his personal space. He opened his eyes slowly—the queasy disorientation still present in his vision. The man's dark skin contrasted to the pallor of his own and he couldn't place it anywhere—even in the disorganized cloud of visions that were rolling through his mind. "I'm not here to harm you."

His words are smooth and—though comforting—they're concerning. He could tell that this man had no ill intention toward him personally, but overall, he was swimming in something that Kanda could only recognize because he himself was experiencing similar radiating feelings. There was a cloud of darkness settling over him that was seeping into Kanda and he was letting it.

The stranger's arms circled around his shoulders and he pulled Kanda closer, until it became a strange embrace. The hum between the two bodies run like a lullaby in Kanda's brain and everything seemed to cleanse from his mind—his vision blurring until he was almost catatonic in the stranger's arms. Yet, he could hear everything so clearly. He could hear the man's breathing and even the beat of his heart against him. He was human too—just a very strange one.

"You killed him, didn't you," Kanda whispered, power lost from his voice as he seemingly molded into the man's touch. The accusation was held with a lightness that made it sound like Kanda was amused more than he was concerned or shocked. The edge of the blood puddle reached his boot and his eyes could only see the burning red color. Some part of him was so deeply satisfied.

"I did," the sultry voice confirmed unapologetically. "It's what _he_ wanted."

_He_? Questions floated through Kanda's mind, leaving him reeling for meanings that he couldn't even begin to grasp at. Kanda didn't even know the man whose arms were around him, let alone the person bleeding on the floor or the one who wanted it. It was somewhere lost in the memories he'd never get back—only clawing some where deep in his subconscious where he would feel the familiarity like a burning itch. This man, too, had the same silver hair of that boy before. Was that why his instinctive reaction was to lean into him like he was necessary for stability?

"Who is he?"

"You…don't remember him, love," the reply comes like a sharp slap to Kanda and the man caresses his cheek in response. "I can show you, if you'd like. The memories he left me. Of you." A slender hand trickles across Kanda's face until the fingers are brushing his eyes shut and covering his face to block the vision of the outside out. "Just close your eyes. Breathe…Inherit the world of you that he existed in."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I said I would update more frequently and then I didn't AUGH. I'm sorry. I got really sidetracked writing a trilogy and now that the trilogy is almost done, I'll be back here. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN anything. I've just been more active on my tumblr and working on commissions. Check my profile for links to my tumblrs if you want more frequent status updates.  
><em>


	32. Chapter 32

**Persecution. Thirty-Two**

At first, Kanda didn't know what he meant by these cryptic lines; but a moment passed and the flashing images began to clamor through his head like a hurricane of jumbled information. If he hadn't been in the arms of this man, he would have sunk to his knees from the sharp, crushing pain in his skull from memories he didn't have and ones that were never his to begin with.

There was a continual stream of images and sounds, people and places…voices that were familiar and yet unfamiliar to his scattered mind. These were things he was actively reaching out for and wanting. He wanted to recall these things in his own mind, but they were lost—torn out of him like they never belonged at all. So he reached out and clung to the ones being jammed into his conscious, latching on to every account that led him back to the voice of that pale faced boy he witnessed breaking before him.

_"I don't think that's the way to talk to someone." _The voice echoed, small and rippling in his head and he strained for it even as it cut out. "_So you'll hate me anyway." _It was skipping around, he couldn't make sense of it yet, but the images were flashing through. "_I want to be a destroyer who saves others._" It's so familiar that it's making his body tremble and yet the words keep flooding in his mind.

_What would it take to make you not hate me, Kanda?_

_Why don't you let me care?_

_You're important to _me_. _

_I don't think you're weak, it's because you're strong that I want to be there for you. Why do you fight me so hard? _

_Thank you. _

_Thank you, Kanda. _

_I love you. _

_No matter what, I love you. _

_We'll be okay. Always. _

_Always._

He pulled a breath with a strong pained rasp, feeling the burn of his eyes bleeding into the hand over them. All he had were the cold flashes and warm words of a lover who had made promises that weren't appearing to be kept. This person, silver hair with gentle eyes and a snappy streak that rivaled his own…this person was close to his heart and he could feel it all the way to his bones. It left him with a churning in his stomach that threatened to overthrow his equilibrium.

Because in all these hallucinations, he couldn't see the missing half; the part, he knew somewhere in his soul, that belonged to him. All of his ties to this man were blank and blacked out as the moonless night and he wanted to scream at the uncomfortably unfairness of it all. These people took everything that seemingly mattered from him.

For what?

For a stupid collar and a stupid letter. A letter that seared into his face until he wanted to take a knife and mar it until it was unrecognizable. He could almost still feel the hot iron on his face, as if he remembered the incident that had been wiped from his mind. It was there, clawing at him. These anxious feeling bubbled and boiled until he felt the rage coming back with an intensity that he could severely hurt someone with.

There was no physical mirror, but he felt like he was staring into one and seeing the dispassion seeping into him. Everything he loved and tolerated—and the familiarity of this life to him—were all vanishing until the pain in his chest was almost frightening. It hurt to a point where his mind crashed and all he could register was the fury welling up in him. This place…this place had done nothing but damage him. This place didn't care that they had played god and ruined his existence. The Black Order had taken everything from him for the sake of a god he didn't even believe in.

They took his innocence before he was even born.

They took his freedom.

They robbed him of his past and everything he needed to resolve the missing holes in a heart that wasn't originally even his—but the person before him.

And they took _him_-the man haunting him to the point where he was going to collapse on himself just because the remembrance was lost to the whims of the Order and their ridiculous need to play lord over everything under their thumb.

He was done with this.

Completely.

"Where…" Kanda's thoughts were barely together, but just enough to compose the most basic question in hopes of a definitive answer. "…Is _he?_"

The smooth tenor voice teased his ear and subsequently destroyed the very last shred that kept him clinging to that boy's now unrequited love. "He's already gone, love."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Now that my Trilogy is done, I will be putting focus into completing this one.  
><em>


	33. Chapter 33

**Persecution. Thirty-Three**

The mechanical whirring of thoughts were what churned out the words that Kanda managed to formulate, despite being completely vacant of all feeling from the neck up. He was almost deaf to his own words as they trembled out into the somehow stuff air of his cold cell. "What…do you mean…gone?"

Sympathetic and soothing, the stranger simply held his embrace tighter to him. The dull ache in his chest made him lean into the embrace and relish in the only comfort that he seemed to be able to pull while he could actually feel his heart breaking into a mess of disoriented pieces. It didn't make sense to him, to feel this way, but it hurt…It hurt so much he could scream—boiling rage nearly electrified his limbs until he was digging his fingers into his arms.

_Gone_.

Why did that make him die a little inside?

"He's here…" The unintentionally cruel whisper left shivers through Kanda's frame—echoing his complete unrest. "…But he's not. I was him…but he has given up his reality for me."

"What do you mean, given up his reality?" Temper flared in Kanda's tone as the negative energy swirled within him, collecting until he was blistering under the surface—angry and stewing with malicious intent. He wanted to hurt them. Everything swelling within him wanted to lash out and destroy everything he could touch, because he wasn't himself anymore. He wasn't who he was—just like this person was no longer who his apparent lover was.

He could scream. It took every ounce of control not to release the most unstable sound that could probably come from his body.

His fists curled so tight that he thought he could split the skin over his knuckles. Every breath he exhaled felt harder, sounding like ragged panting of an enraged animal. Submitting to a place he already hated beyond everything had left him with nothing and taken away someone else's existence too. He'd seen the desperation in the boy's eyes and he'd heard the way his shrill voice attested to his ultimate defeat. Kanda turned it inward, because could feel that the man he was before would despise him for letting it happen this way.

He let his lover down.

He let everything slip between his fingers, and the man who he assumed was responsible for it coming to light was already dead at his feet. There was nothing he could do to express to the one who ruined them just how much he wanted to paint the cell with the man's blood. The only reprieve he had was the other life form in the room—and the delectable promise of destruction he could feel wafting off of him.

The answer is almost lost to Kanda's clouded mind, but the gentle—yet searing—words slice through and reach through. "He lost you and lost him self. The moment _you_ died, as you were, he no longer desired existence and submitted to me." There was a cruelty in the way he answered like it wasn't a big deal—as if it wasn't making Kanda's temperament utterly destroy itself in the range of horrid, pulsing emotions. "I am Neah; as this institution knows me, the fourteenth Noah."

The Noah's face gently turned into Kanda's and the swordsman almost recoiled from the painfully familiar yet aching recollections of his body. He knew that feeling, but his mind didn't. It was killing him and yet he remained. He remained despite the rage flustering his face and spilling over his cheeks—until they were stained with the tears he didn't want to shed, but could not stop for the magnitude of fury eating him alive.

"I'm here for _you_, Kanda, I'm here to release you. I'm here to let you brandish this fury and bequeath the justice upon the ones who wronged you both. I can feel his pain. It echoes in this body and longs for reconciliation." he cooed sweetly in his ear until he was appealing to the darkest recesses of Kanda's mind.

The tactic of manipulation wasn't unreasonable and Kanda was more than well aware of this possibility, but he didn't care. His soul was sizzling with knowledge he couldn't reach and he could feel himself being drawn in to the Noah—whatever that may be. This person held the body of his lover—there were no falsities there—yet it lacked a warmth he knew should be there.

…Warmth that this place robbed from it. There should be a loving smile where malignancy now dominated. There should be a soft voice where cold bitterness whispered. There should be comforting, pliant hands that his own mingled with—now replaced with gripping, icy fingers that reeked of death.

It wasn't right.

Everything was wrong about this body embracing him.

This was not…

Wasn't…

…_Allen_.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm going to have shit thrown at me for this, I'm sure.  
><em>


	34. Chapter 34

**Persecution. Thirty-Four**

And yet, despite the burning, crushing feeling in his chest; Kanda's lips formed the passage for the syllables of agreement. His low voice trembled, the words falling off his tongue like a dripping poison. This time, he had been pushed too far and his sufferings had been stacked too high to prevent the disastrous downfall of his own morals. People he had known for all of his life stood by while this had all taken place-he didn't need to remember the events to know that. It was evident by the brand in his face and the collar about his neck. If they truly cared, those wouldn't be fueling the fury that was beginning to blaze out of control.

Ripped from him was the only threads of something that he could feel remotely understood him and cared for him. The pale-boy that traced the edges of his mind had no features, had no concrete form that he could cling to as desperately as he wanted. All he had left was the tainted shadow whispering promises into his ear that he'd be a fool to trust. This person, this Noah, had no sense or remorse for the loss-Kanda could feel it all the way to his bones.

What this Noah had was promises of vengeance. Sweet, tender whispers in his ear contained acerbic words that unraveled him at his core. The blood that crawled to the edge of his shoes left dark feelings pooling in his chest. Red liquid stained the achromatic floor. All he could see was the crimson color glaring up at him from a foggy floor.

"What do I do…?" Words faded into the silent room. The smell of blood filtered into the air and his impassioned gaze remained unbroken.

"You listen," he replied, breathing against Kanda's ear warmly. His warmth, however, felt cool compared to the heated turbulence swelling in his chest. He felt sick, sick enough for it to warp his senses and drown out the things around him that weren't this man who had taken his loved one's place—the loved one he couldn't remember. No matter how he tried, it was never going to resurface. He felt so much despair in the same steps as the rage that drew blood through his veins. How a human could feel such intense things and still be standing…it was a mystery to which he'd never have the clarity to seek an answer.

The man behind him snaked his arms about him, until he had drawn himself from behind him and was standing just before him. Kanda could see him—every detail of his face. Golden eyes bore half-lidded disdain and he could really see the fury shining behind those amber irises. He was not alone. The body before him suffered from injustice as he had. The stigmata marked across his forehead and the deathly stained skin were marks of condemnation, he decided as he reached out to draw a thumb across the Noah's marks.

And he let him—light eyes glittering with impending madness-madness that seemed a mirror's reflection to the Asian man opposite of him. There was no distrust here, as it was lost in the turmoil flickering between two people bound by unmarked betrayal. The now former exorcist no longer had the heart— or want— to care, because Kanda was going to play an irreplaceable role here. Kanda knew he was being used and he could feel the discord in his body growing louder—a melody that was drawing across the fibers of his being. "What are you doing to me?" He whispered to the Noah, dropping his hand and standing directly parallel to him—a step of space between. The threads were being drawn between them and Kanda had no desire to step back. All that was left of his once-lover was standing by the will of another.

He could have fought back and he could have left. He could have turned his back on those things he didn't even remember, but the way it settled on his soul wouldn't allow it. The anger he felt that bubbled up, almost oppressively, wouldn't be sated until he spread the crimson across the bleached tiles until there was no white left. As he was, he had no options; he had no life of his own. Decisions couldn't ever be within his reach and he would live to die by the hypocritical hands that tore what little value he'd scraped out of life. The melody grew louder—thunderous even—tearing across his soul like a hailstorm of memories that only served to intensify his rebellion.

They had torn from him his humanity. They had torn from him his friend and his purity. They had taken away his death even. But of all, they took away the half of him that made him whole and he couldn't forgive it. He could never forgive them. No matter what this man was forcing upon him, no matter what this Noah was creating within him…he could not forgive the sins of those pretending to work in the name of a god who never cared for them to begin with.

"Can you feel the rhythm?" The Noah whispered, eyes closing. His hands reached out to Kanda to bring him closer again—taking him by the shoulders and melting his warm body to the other's. "My heart beats with the same fury as yours, _brother_."

The embrace drew Kanda to his chest and the dark eyes faded—clarity lost as they stared out into the hallway where he could see people collecting. These people who did nothing, but standby and be ruled by tainted morals. Stricken faces were just blurs, but he could see them—hesitant and alert. It was almost as if they were prepared to attack—which did nothing but bubble the rage across his limbs until he twitched. They did this to begin with.

"You did this," he muttered, feeling the Noah's arms slack—releasing him and stepping to his side. He was letting him go and Kanda was not going to hold back the gift he was being granted. "I will not forgive you."

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><p><em>AN: I will be working on finishing this one up very soon.  
><em>


	35. Chapter 35

**Persecution. Thirty-Five**

A body flew through the open door and cracked into the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. Little attention was paid to see if that person got back up, but he didn't care at all. The things bleeding into his vision and the words blurring in his ears were a jumbled mess that collected in a darker part of his mind that he couldn't reach anymore. His anger was much more prominent and he lost connection with the logical part of his brain that was screaming at him to stop before he made a regrettable mistake. It was too bad, really, because the regrettable mistake had already been made and could never be reversed.

If he had known it would come to this, then he would never have allowed himself to be pinned down and punished for the crime of giving his love to another person. He would never have allowed the other person to suffer the things he clearly suffered. If the worst thing he ever did in his life was find solace in the arms of someone bearing the same physical structure, then he was painfully wronged here.

No, he knew he was wronged no matter how horrible that seemed to society. Good feelings left him the moment his mind had been flooded with the outlines and traces of his partner. His partner was gone, wrung out of his own body by his despair at the same loss Kanda was feeling then. Romeo and Juliet never had life as unjust as they were living. No matter which way it was spun, he hadn't deserved this. After what they'd done to him before.

After Alma.

They owed him. They owed him so much that he could taste the blood of his anger blossoming over his tongue like a spicy midnight craving. That taste was so strong that it curled his lip to a feral snarl and he gritted his teeth to bite back the furious hiss that pressed to pass. Anyone standing before him would be stupid to test his control now and judging by the hesitance to enter the room, he knew they weren't going to make blind risks while his sanity was absolutely questionable.

His boot dipped into the warm blood of his accuser and he lifted his foot to step through the doorway and leave the chilling red print clear in the marble. He hadn't spilled the blood, but he wouldn't care much if they assumed he had. After all, he was punished worse on far lesser crimes. The speckled red across the glassy floor attested to the grave injury of the person he'd bodily forced out of the chamber.

They should know his strength. They made him. They should know his anger. They did it. They should feel his wrath, because they flourished it and made it grow into this trembling, noxious abomination that wanted to wring the life out of anything he could curl his fingers around. They started this.

And he was going to finish it.

The people trying to surround him didn't really have a chance and some of them had to know it. Finders and CROW given orders to take the front line and most likely die; that's what these poor bastards were. They were just pawns to be used and disposed of and he was infuriated in it. It disgusted him that they so readily threw themselves in front of him—knowing that, if pushed, he could and would kill any one of them. It disgusted him more that he had essentially been that. He let this organization violate him in his life, his death and his rebirth and then take away the only semblance of sanity he was starting to believe he had.

There was no way he could feel this desolate and not have felt vast value in what was ripped from him. It hurt at his soul and the worst part was he couldn't even explain it entirely.

The empty feeling in his chest drowned out the unsettling crunch of his fist slamming a faceless person into the wall beside the other person. He didn't have an ounce of focus on the people trying to desperately to contain him. He didn't have a shred of morality to stop from wrenching the knife from the CROW man and gutting him across the belly—leaving blood to spill out across the floor and stain the front of his jacket. Who cared? They were worthless. They had life spans only as long as they were permitted to have and that was it.

Just like he only had freedom for as long as it benefitted them. He was only allowed to be in love with the God that chose to damn him from his birth to his impending death. He didn't believe for a moment he would walk away from this building alive. There were too many exorcists and too many Generals in one location. That was just as well. There was no purpose in living to protect a world that wouldn't grant you the one sliver of hope and happiness.

He'd murdered his best friend because they couldn't keep their noses out of the domain of God. They took someone else important from him and he will never remember her. And then this.

Another body went slack in his hands—fingers crushing a fragile windpipe and snapping a weak neck. Another pawn tipped over and he pushed his way down the dank hall. The smell of blood was so much stronger than it should be, but possibly it was because it was drizzling down his face and he'd yet to wipe it clean. He didn't care. He didn't have time to care.

He was fully aware of the man following him out of the room—of the carnage that he too left as they tried fruitlessly to stop him. That was perfectly fine. This man who had erased what he couldn't remember had set him free—a gift horse not to be looked in the mouth. Because, if there was nothing else he did in his life, he would destroy those that destroyed him—no matter who stood in his way.

The girl with the wide eyes and the pleading face and the redheaded boy beside her weren't worth a second glance. Because he'd kill them too if they stood in his way.

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><p><em>AN: Will aim for another chapter soon._


	36. Chapter 36

**Persecution. Thirty-Six**

"Kanda…"

A weak voice filled the hall, despite the cries of pain from the few that hadn't died immediately. The sound trembled over the syllables and that stopped him in his tracks for a moment, but he didn't turn his eyes back toward the source. She was not the one he needed to destroy above all else. If he was going to face the collective, then he was going to eliminate the source before they could stop him. He needed to, the boiling in his chest wouldn't soothe until he saw blood spill from those who were supposed to support them, yet didn't.

"...Please….Kanda…."

But he itched. He itched to turn around and make the sounds cease forever. It drilled into his brain and scrambled his composure, little by little. If they stayed out of his way, he would leave them. They left him, it was only fair of him to do the same. The blind eye he would turn was only a duplications of the ones they turned when he was destroyed in front of them-broken down and stripped of any humanity he had. Not one of them stepped forward. The Exorcists had the power, but none of them had the power enough to defy the ones who claimed to work for the god that gave them nothing.

"Stop..this isn't you…"

Close behind him, he could still feel the dark aura emanating from the body of the one who'd freed him from his dank prison. It was a gentle echo that seemed to reverberate against the uneven thrashing in his heart. Steady, he was keeping him steady. Fingers left a sensory trail where they touched, stroking down his back and drawing attention to the gold eyes that silently directed him. The Noah encouraged him, but also had a reason to keep him from throwing himself directly at forces he couldn't take all at once.

"Stop…" Her cries rang in his ears until he only heard the words repeating themselves long after her lips stopped moving and she succumbed to her tears. Her tears meant nothing to him, but still he turned and watched her hands cover her face-body trembling and frantic. She knew she lost him, lost the man whose body stood beside him. They may as well have been in different worlds. Worlds separated by desperation to hold on to things she loved, and his hatred that made him want to destroy everything. She had more faith left in her than he could ever hope to scrap up in his entire life time. He didn't want it anyway. He trusted no one.

Yet he stood, with wary guards around him, watching her crumble and wake up to the reality that friendship speeches and hope weren't enough for some. He was as gone to her as he had been gone to his forgotten lover. As gone as his memories.

But she still tried and he remained planted before her, looking down at her as she approached-thinking she had reached him with her wailing. Try as she might, he wasn't drawn away from dark thoughts that blossomed into murderous intentions. Perhaps she couldn't see the growing malice glittering in amber eyes as she approached, fingers curling in blood spattered material. She was clinging to hope.

However, even if she reached him through the fog of hate clouding his mind, there was nothing that could be done to save him or his situation. Bodies around him-death around him-had already sealed his fate in the eyes of the Order, he was sure. Should he manage to come back down from the swell of hatred, he was still a criminal and more so than he ever had been before.

A twitched of lip and his face distorted into something that reflected a kind of...amusement. The way his expression warped made her quiet; it made her eyes widen and a flicker of fear overtake her delicate face. In her own way, she'd always had some kind of control over him. He never treated her the way he'd treated others-even placing her on a special pedestal compared to some of the others. There was respect. But it wasn't the same anymore.

While she gaped at him, unsure of what to do, he moved to wrap his fingers around her delicate neck. It wouldn't take much to break her. He could squeeze his fingers right through her neck and break bones; let her gasp and whimper while he shut her off permanently. Yet, he didn't. He squeezed just enough to make her afraid, but not enough to hurt her permanently. This was not the one he wanted to destroy and if he did, he would have to deal with the redhead with the hammer about to engage him.

"Don't bother," Kanda's mostly unused voice was raw, laced with bitterness and threat. "I have no interest." He held her close enough to stop the bookman-in-training from making a stupid leap at him. He didn't have a weapon himself, but he didn't need one to break the idiot's neck if he wanted to trifle with him as he was.

Once he was sure the other exorcist was staying put, he moved her away from him and bodily threw her at him-uncaring on whether or not the sudden jerk of motion injured her in anyway. She collapsed against the man who caught her, dropping his weapon in favor of making sure she wasn't harmed. An angry eye and a snarl turned up at him immediately after checking her, but Kanda was unaffected.

Walking away was the most logical response, assuming they would be smart enough to leave him be once they realized they weren't much of a match for him. She was smart enough to know to be afraid. He wasn't, apparently.

"You Noah bastard," a low hiss made him stop again. "What have you done with Kanda?"

For a moment, Kanda wanted to laugh. It wasn't a fond laughter, it was one of malignancy. The Noah had done nothing to him. The Noah had broken him free of the prison he was locked in. The Order was the villain. They were the ones to drag him down to the path of destruction. Not the man beside him, who took his lover's body after they'd destroyed him as well.

A darkened hand pressed over his chest, over his thrumming heart and he stilled-comforted by the foreign chaos.

"I have done nothing to him," the Noah smiled, close enough to be embracing him.

"I wasn't talking to _you_." The low hiss turned into a sharp snap and the Noah before Kanda only chuckled, dark fingers pressing against the exposed flesh of a neck whose tone was beginning to match his own.

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><p><em>AN: It's been a while, I know, but I want to finish this. Above all. I hope I haven't lost everyone.  
>This is for you Becca.<em>


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